CHAPTER 303: HUNGER

The elven trail through the forest was easy to follow. Too easy.

Grim knelt beside a muddy footprint and traced its edges with his finger. Deep impressions in the soft earth. The weight of shackled prisoners and their guards pressing into rain-soaked ground.

"They’re not trying to hide," Captain Wei observed.

"Arrogance," Sergeant Liu spat. "They think they won’t be caught."

Grim studied the print more carefully. The depth suggested it hadn’t been too long. The rain had softened the edges but hadn’t yet filled the depression completely.

"Two hours ahead," he said. "Maybe less."

Blood stained the leaves of nearby bushes. Dark red drops that hadn’t been completely washed away by the rain. Someone was bleeding badly enough to leave a trail.

Grim’s jaw tightened. Every drop of blood fueled the cold fury building in his chest. The elves would pay for every wound inflicted on his people.

The trail led north through increasingly difficult terrain. Dense forest gave way to rocky slopes and narrow ravines.

"They’re heading for high ground," Sergeant Liu noted.

The first body appeared twenty minutes later.

An elven scout lay crumpled behind a fallen tree. His throat had been opened by a precise cut.

"Zhang’s handiwork," Captain Wei said with satisfaction. "The bastards haven’t broken our people yet."

"One guard down," Grim observed. "Twenty-nine remaining."

They pressed on through the darkness. The rain had stopped, but the forest floor remained treacherous. Mud sucked at their boots with every step. Branches caught at their clothing, ripping away some of the fabric.

The trail became easier to follow as they climbed higher. The elves were pushing hard, driving their prisoners beyond ehat abyone should have to bear. Drag marks appeared in the mud where someone had fallen and been hauled upright.

"They’re moving too fast," Sergeant Liu said. "Prisoners in that condition can’t maintain this pace."

"That’s the point," Grim replied grimly. "Break them physically before they reach the stronghold. Make them easier to manage."

Another blood trail appeared beside the main track. Fresh drops that caught the moonlight like dark jewels. Someone was bleeding heavily from new wounds.

Grim’s hand tightened on Echo’s hilt. The aurora energy responded to his anger, making the blade glow faintly in the darkness.

"Sir," Captain Wei called from ahead. "You need to see this."

He’d found another elven body. This one showed signs of a struggle. Torn vegetation. Scuffed earth. Blood on nearby rocks.

"Ambush," Grim said, reading the scene. "Someone broke free long enough to kill another guard."

"Two down," Sergeant Liu counted. "Our people are still fighting."

The knowledge that his team remained defiant despite capture filled Grim with fierce pride. But it also increased his urgency.

The trail led to a stream crossing where the story became clearer. Footprints in the muddy bank showed where the column had stopped. Deeper impressions indicated prisoners had collapsed and been forced to continue.

"Blood in the water," Sergeant Liu pointed to dark stains on the rocks.

Grim knelt beside the stream and cupped the cold water in his hands. It tasted of mountain snow and elven blood. He drank deeply, then refilled his water skin.

"How far to the mountains?" he asked.

"Six hours at normal pace," Captain Wei replied. "But they’re not moving at normal pace."

"Four hours with prisoners in their condition," Sergeant Liu added. "Maybe less if they keep dropping."

Grim stood and checked his equipment. Echo hung ready at his side.

"Double time," he ordered. "We close the distance before they reach the mountains."

The pursuit became a race against time and terrain. The trail led ever upward through increasingly rocky ground. Pine trees replaced hardwoods as they climbed toward the mountain passes.

Signs of the elven column’s passage remained clear. Broken branches. Disturbed stones. The occasional drop of blood or torn piece of cloth.

But the prisoners were weakening. Drag marks became more frequent. Rest stops appeared every few hundred yards instead of every mile.

"They’re slowing down," Captain Wei noted.

"Good," Grim replied. "Pain and exhaustion work in our favor."

The trail crested a ridge and began descending into a narrow valley. Moonlight revealed the landscape ahead. A natural corridor between high walls of stone.

Perfect for an ambush.

"Careful," Grim warned.

They moved more cautiously now, checking every shadow and boulder for hidden enemies. The elven trail continued straight down the valley floor, but that could be deception.

"Movement ahead," Sergeant Liu whispered.

Grim squinted through the darkness. Orange light flickered in the distance. Campfires in a sheltered area between rocky outcroppings.

"They’ve stopped," Captain Wei observed.

"Finally made camp," Grim said with cold satisfaction. "Now we wait and watch."

--

The forced march had been hell.

Lianna’s feet bled inside her torn shoes. Each step sent pain shooting up her legs from blisters that had burst hours ago. The heavy shackles around her wrists and ankles had rubbed her skin raw despite the dried blood that acted as crude padding.

"Move," an elven guard snarled, prodding her with his spear.

She stumbled forward, nearly falling face-first into the rocky ground. Only Morris’s quick support kept her upright.

"I’ve got you," he whispered, his own voice hoarse from exhaustion.

The other prisoners were in similar condition. Willem’s broken arm had swollen grotesquely during the march. The crude splint an elf had applied did nothing to ease his agony. His face was pale and slick with sweat despite the cold mountain air.

Captain Zhou and Lieutenant Feng supported each other, their Yanyu uniforms torn and stained with blood from the lashing they’d received for Zhang’s escape attempt. Both men moved with the careful gait of soldiers fighting through pain and exhaustion.

Huangyan walked alone, her half-elven heritage allowing her to endure the pace better than the others. But even she showed signs of the brutal treatment. Dried blood matted her hair where a guard’s club had split her scalp. Dark bruises covered her arms and face.

Zhang brought up the rear of the prisoner column. His back was a map of raw welts from the punishment whipping. Each step pulled at the wounds, but he maintained the rigid posture of an imperial soldier. His eyes constantly scanned their surroundings, looking for escape opportunities that never came.

"Halt," Captain Morvain commanded from the front of the column.

The prisoners collapsed where they stood. None had the strength left to remain upright without orders. They sat heavily on the cold stone, gasping for air in the thin mountain atmosphere.

"We camp here," Morvain announced to his guards. "Defensive positions on the ridges. Full watch rotation."

The chosen campsite was a natural fortress. High stone walls enclosed a roughly circular area about fifty yards across. Only two entrances, the way they’d come from and a narrow passage leading deeper into the mountains.

Elven guards immediately began establishing their perimeter. Some climbed to elevated positions with clear fields of fire. Others gathered wood for fires. A few began preparing basic food from their travel rations.

None offered food or water to the prisoners.

"Please," Willem gasped, his broken arm cradled against his chest. "Water."

An elven boot connected with his ribs. The impact drove him sideways into the wall.

"Prisoners eat when we decide they eat," the guard said coldly.

Lianna tried to help Willem sit up, but her shackles made movement difficult. The iron was heavier than it needed to be.

"Leave him," Morris said quietly. "Don’t give them an excuse for more punishment."

But Willem was unconscious, his breathing shallow and rapid. Without medical attention, his broken arm was becoming infected. Fever burned in his pale cheeks.

"He needs help," Lianna said.

"He needs to survive until we reach the stronghold," Morvain replied, overhearing. "After that, his condition becomes irrelevant."

The casual cruelty in his voice made Lianna’s stomach turn. These weren’t soldiers following orders. They were predators enjoying their prey’s suffering.

Hours passed as the elves established their camp. Fires blazed to life, providing warmth and light. The smell of meat drifted across the enclosed area, making the prisoners’ empty stomachs cramp with hunger.

They’d been given nothing to eat since capture. Nothing to drink except muddy water from the stream crossing. The elves were weakening them for whatever waited at the mountain stronghold.

"Stay strong," Huangyan whispered to the group. "Grim will come."

"How can you be sure?" Captain Zhou asked.

"Because he never leaves people behind," Zhang replied with conviction. "No matter the odds."

"He doesn’t know where we are," Lieutenant Feng pointed out. "The trail could lead anywhere."

"He’ll find us," Lianna said with quiet certainty. "And when he does, these bastards will pay for every moment of this."

An elven guard overheard and laughed harshly. "Your butcher friend is probably dead already. The mountain patrols will have found his body by now."

"Keep telling yourself that," Zhang said. "Right up until his blade opens your throat."

The guard’s expression darkened. He raised his club to strike, but Morvain’s voice stopped him.

"Enough. Save your energy for the march tomorrow."

The prisoners were left to huddle together for warmth as night deepened. The stone ground sucked heat from their bodies. Without blankets or shelter, they faced a miserable few hours until dawn.

Willem’s condition worsened as the temperature dropped. His breathing became more labored. His fever spiked higher. Morris and Lianna tried to share their body heat, but it wasn’t enough.

"He’s dying," Morris said quietly.

"I know," Lianna replied.

Around them, the elven guards settled into their watch rotations. Some slept near the fires. Others maintained vigilant patrols along the camp perimeter.

But they all made the same mistake.

They assumed their prisoners were too weak and broken to cause trouble.

As the hours passed and most of the guards dozed, Huangyan began working on her shackles.

The process was slow and silent. Each tiny movement had to be carefully controlled to avoid detection. But gradually, she felt the mechanism beginning to respond.

"What are you doing?" Lianna whispered.

"Getting ready," Huangyan replied without stopping her work.

"For what?"

"For when Grim arrives."

The lock clicked softly as the tumblers aligned. Huangyan’s shackles fell open just enough to allow greater freedom of movement while still appearing secure.

She began working on Lianna’s restraints next.

"Hold still," she breathed.

But as she manipulated the lock mechanism, footsteps approached their position. Heavy boots on stone. A guard making his rounds.

"What’s happening here?" the elf demanded.

"Nothing," Huangyan replied quickly, letting her hands fall to her sides. "Just trying to find a comfortable position on these rocks."

The guard studied them suspiciously. His hand rested on his sword hilt.

"Stand up," he ordered Lianna. "All of you. Inspection."

They struggled to their feet, careful to keep their partially loosened shackles from falling completely free. The guard examined each prisoner closely, looking for signs of tampering or escape attempts.

"You," he pointed at Lianna. "Come with me."

"Where?" she asked.

"Captain Morvain wants to speak with you. Privately."

The other prisoners exchanged worried glances. Private conversations with Morvain never ended well.

"I’m fine here," Lianna said.

"It wasn’t a request."

The guard grabbed her arm and hauled her away from the group. Toward a secluded area on the far side of the camp where Morvain waited beside a small fire.

As she was dragged away, Lianna caught Huangyan’s eye. The half-elf nodded almost imperceptibly.