CHAPTER 290: TRACKING

The trail left by the fleeing elves was easy enough to follow in the darkness. Broken branches, disturbed ground, and the occasional drop of silver blood.

Grim dismounted and led his horse on foot, moving quietly through the undergrowth as he tracked the survivors deeper into the hills.

The terrain grew increasingly rocky and difficult, with steep slopes and narrow ravines that would make any large-scale military movement challenging.

[They’re moving fast,] Caius observed. [Fear makes even elves careless.]

"Good. Careless enemies leave better trails."

The path wound through dense forest where ancient trees blocked most of the moonlight, creating a maze of shadows and uncertain footing.

Grim moved silently through the forest.

After an hour of careful tracking, Grim heard the sound of movement ahead.

He tied his horse to a tree and drew Echo, moving forward in a low crouch. The sounds grew louder as he approached. Breaking branches and rustling through dead leaves.

This had to be them. The surviving elves, possibly regrouping or meeting with reinforcements.

Grim crept closer, Echo ready to strike. His heart rate increased as he prepared for another fight.

These elves had seen what he could do, which made them dangerous in a different way than the previous groups.

The sounds were directly ahead now, just beyond a thick cluster of bushes.

Grim burst through the undergrowth, Echo raised to strike.

And found himself face to face with a family of wild boars rooting through the forest floor.

The largest boar, easily three hundred pounds of muscle and tusks, looked up at the sudden intrusion. Its small eyes glinted with irritation at having its meal interrupted.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Grim muttered.

The boar snorted, pawed the ground once, then returned to its foraging as if a sword-wielding human was merely a minor inconvenience.

[Wild boars can be quite dangerous,] Caius noted with obvious amusement. [Perhaps you should add pig ears to your collection.]

"Very funny."

Grim sheathed Echo and returned to the trail, his adrenaline slowly subsiding. The elven tracks continued northward, following what appeared to be a game trail that wound between the hills.

Another hour passed as Grim followed the increasingly faint trail. The elves were getting better at hiding their tracks.

The forest grew quieter as he climbed higher into the hills. Even the normal sounds of night creatures seemed muted, as if something had frightened them into silence.

That’s when Grim heard it again.

Movement in the darkness ahead. But this time it sounded different.

He dropped to one knee behind a fallen log, Echo sliding silently from its sheath. This time he would be more cautious.

The sounds grew closer. He could hear what sounds.

Grim’s pulse quickened. This was it. The surviving elves from the ambush, probably scouting ahead or communicating with their base.

He counted at least three different voices, possibly more. They were moving directly toward his position, which meant they either hadn’t seen him or were trying to surround him.

Either way, he had the advantage of surprise.

The footsteps grew closer. Grim could hear individual words now, though he didn’t understand the elven tongue.

They were almost on top of his position.

Grim tensed, ready to spring into action the moment they came into view.

A massive stag burst through the undergrowth directly in front of him, its antlers spanning nearly six feet. Two does followed close behind, all three deer bounding past his hiding spot in great leaping strides.

Their hooves thundered against the forest floor, making exactly the sounds he had mistaken for careful footsteps. The "voices" had been the snorting and breathing of the frightened animals.

"This is getting ridiculous," Grim said, watching the deer disappear into the darkness.

[Perhaps you’re letting the stress of the hunt affect your judgment,] Caius suggested. [Not every sound in a forest comes from enemies.]

"The stress isn’t affecting my judgment. The forest is just unusually active tonight."

[Or you’re so focused on finding elves that you’re hearing them everywhere.]

Grim stood and examined his surroundings more carefully. The deer had been running from something, and their panic suggested a predator.

That’s when he noticed the smell.

It was faint, almost masked by the natural forest scents, but unmistakable once he focused on it. The metallic tang of spilled blood, and beneath that, the distinctive odor of elven magic.

Something had died here recently. Something that bled silver.

Grim followed the scent to a small clearing where he found the bodies of two elves. Both had been killed by massive claw marks that could only have come from a creature.

A mountain bear. And judging by the size of the claw marks, a very large one.

"So that’s what spooked the deer," Grim said, examining the bodies. "And probably why the other elves changed their route."

The dead elves weren’t from the group he had been tracking. Their equipment was different, suggesting they were part of a patrol that had encountered the bear earlier in the evening.

More importantly, they had been traveling with supplies. Military rations, arrows, and a detailed map of the local area.

Grim studied the map. It showed several marked positions throughout the hills, connected by what appeared to be patrol routes. At the center of the network was a symbol that looked like a fortified camp.

"There," he said, pointing to the central position. "That’s where they’re based."

[Assuming the map is current,] Caius noted.

"It’s current enough. Look at the ink . It was drawn recently."

According to the map, the main camp was perhaps three miles northeast of his current position, situated in a natural valley that would be easy to defend and difficult to assault.

Grim pocketed the map and resumed tracking, but now with a clear destination in mind.

The terrain grew increasingly challenging as he climbed higher into the hills. Loose rocks shifted under his feet, and thorny undergrowth caught at his clothes with every step.

But the elevation gave him better sight lines and confirmed that he was moving in the right direction.

As he reached the top of a hill, Grim caught sight of light in the distance.

Not the flickering orange of torches or campfires, but the steady blue-white glow of magical illumination.

His heart rate quickened. After hours of false alarms and animal encounters, he had finally found what he was looking for.

Grim moved carefully toward the light source, using every piece of available cover as he approached what was clearly a major elven installation.

The camp was much larger than he had expected.

Positioned in a natural bowl between three hills, it offered excellent defensive advantages while remaining hidden.

But it was the scale of the operation that truly surprised him.

The elves had built permanent structures throughout the valley. Wooden buildings that would take weeks to construct, storage facilities, what appeared to be a command center, and most ominously, several buildings that looked suspiciously like prison barracks.

Magical wards glowed faintly around the entire perimeter, creating a barrier that would alert the defenders to any intruders while also masking the camp’s presence from distant observation.

Grim counted at least sixty elves moving about their various duties, even at this late hour. Guards walked regular patrols, supply teams moved equipment between buildings, and lights burned in what was obviously a command structure at the camp’s center.

[The scale suggests they’re planning to hold this territory for a while,] Caius said. [Which makes your rescue mission considerably more complicated.]

He worked his way closer, using the rocky terrain and sparse vegetation to mask his approach. The magical wards would detect him if he got too close, but from his current position he could observe the camp’s layout and activity.

As he settled, the door of one of the prison buildings opened. Two elven guards emerged, escorting a human prisoner between them.

Even at this distance, Grim could see that the prisoner wore the torn remains of a Yanyu military uniform. The man moved slowly, suggesting he had been injured.

The guards led their prisoner to the central command building, where lights burned brightly and the sound of voices carried across the valley.

"Interrogation," Grim said grimly. "They’re extracting information from the captured soldiers."

[Which means some of the prisoners are still alive,] Caius noted. [Including, possibly, Lady Levenhart.]

"She better be."

Grim continued his observation, noting guard rotations, defensive positions, and the locations of what appeared to be prisoner holding areas. The camp was well-organized and heavily defended, but it wasn’t impregnable.

The question was whether he could mount a successful rescue operation alone, or if he needed to return for reinforcements.

As if to answer his question, another door opened in the prison complex. This time, three guards emerged with two prisoners.

One of the prisoners was clearly female, her long dark hair visible even in the magical lighting.

Grim’s breath caught in his throat.

From this distance, he couldn’t be certain, but the prisoner’s height and build matched what he remembered of Lianna Levenhart.

"Found you," he whispered.

[Are you certain it’s her?] Caius asked.

"Certain enough. And even if it’s not, those are human prisoners who need to be rescued."