Blood in the Mountains

Late at night, a bright full moon hung on the horizon. Moonlight filtered through gaps in the forest, illuminating a terrified face.

Blue-gray stubble covered the man's cheeks, as long as a fingernail. His loose, swollen skin was slick with sweat, and heavy dark circles framed a pair of bloodshot eyes, wide as bells as he kept twisting his neck to peer around him.

His pale yellow linen shirt was tightly tucked into his trousers, both stained with mud, black slag, and coal. His faded tight pants had been torn to shreds by the steep branches in the woods, with two large holes worn through at the knees, smeared with sticky pale red stains.

"Huff, huff..." At that moment, he leaned against a rough pine tree, bracing his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. His coal-blackened fingers trembled unconsciously. He gripped his trousers so hard that his knuckles turned white, trying to suppress the shaking.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

All of a sudden, a series of heavy footsteps pierced through the dense conifer forest, making the ground beneath the man tremble slightly. Long, slender needles rustled down from the branches overhead onto his body.

In an instant, he covered his mouth and nose in utter terror. Curling up like a hedgehog, he crouched behind the tree, held his breath, pricked up his ears, and silently listened to the sounds around him.

Every loud tremor felt like a knife stabbing into his heart, making his body shake involuntarily. His fingers pressed harder and harder over his mouth and nose, as if he meant to smother himself to death.

He recalled some incomparably horrifying sight, and his eyes darted about even more wildly.

Bang, bang, bang...

After five agonizing minutes, a desolate, lingering sigh echoed through the forest. The enormous footsteps finally moved away from the man.

Only when there was no longer the slightest sound near him did the man collapse to the ground with a thud. His chest heaved violently like a dried-up fish on the brink of death, and he nearly suffocated.

He desperately gulped down fresh air.

Breathe, breathe. Bitter tears slid from the corners of his eyes.

"I survived. I survived. Tina, Jim, Daddy will come home tomorrow and take you far away! Wait for me, wait for Daddy!"

He muttered to himself as if possessed. Hope and life gradually returned to his once hopeless, vacant eyes.

Without a sound.

A vine as thick as a child's arm slowly slithered down from high on the oak tree behind him. Like a venomous snake preparing to hunt, it nimbly crept above the man's head.

The vine suddenly raised its middle, its tip lifting from the ground like a snake's head. It coiled and bent, gathering force!

Whoosh—

Snap—

It lunged and coiled. The utterly unprepared man was instantly hoisted ten feet off the ground, his face turning red as he desperately clawed at the vine strangling his neck. Bloody foam spilled from his mouth while his feet kicked wildly in the air.

But it was all useless. He was lifted into the air and dragged backward for a short distance. His vision blurred as patches of emerald moss flashed past him, growing in midair, growing upon two legs as thick and sturdy as tree trunks.

His body suddenly went limp. Like a punctured balloon, several rough branch-like objects pierced his body. Accompanied by a strange gurgling sound, streams of warm liquid sprayed outward like fountains.

Taking his life with them.

The sweat-slicked man's face lost all color in an instant. At last, his lips moved unwillingly a few times, then his legs jerked once and he stopped breathing.

A pale corpse was impaled by dense, interwoven branches that had pierced its body, hanging ten feet above the ground.

Under the moonlight, several bloody loops of intestine mischievously slid from its abdomen, swaying gently amid the thick woods in the cold night wind...

Specks of blood fell and were greedily absorbed by the earth. In the deep night, a satisfied sigh suddenly rang out.

"Huff..." Roy took a deep breath and climbed to his feet, drenched in sweat. He smoothed his rumpled clothes and brushed away broken leaves and blades of grass.

"Have a nightmare?" The Witcher scattered several handfuls of dirt over the ember-glowing campfire, extinguishing it completely, then handed him a steaming roasted rabbit leg.

"It just felt like someone was strangling me. I couldn't breathe." The boy viciously bit into the roast meat, wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth, and comforted himself. "It was probably because the weather was too cold. My body was sounding an alarm."

"But this is the first time I've dreamed since I started using Meditation to replace most of my sleep..." Roy frowned. "And it was a nightmare."

"Fate is unpredictable. Sometimes it gives people warnings through dreams. That's not a good sign. Finish eating quickly, kid." The Witcher glanced at the towering snow-capped mountains in the distance. "We need to pick up the pace and cross Mahakam. Hopefully nothing goes wrong."

After another half day of walking, the two passed through the western trail and reached the foot of Mahakam.

Looking up now, the mountaintop had completely vanished amid clouds, mist, frost, and snow.

Before them, the late-autumn wind bent rows of tall pine trees low. Their whorled branches swayed gently, and pine nuts occasionally blew down onto the ground.

A little boy in a blue padded jacket darted through the woods like a rabbit, picking them up.

Roy and his companion were about to go ask for directions when a sturdy farmwoman suddenly rushed out of the forest. She grabbed the child, flipped him upside down, and gave his backside a fierce beating.

"Running around... disobeying... getting snatched up and eaten by monsters... might as well beat you to death now, you little brat!"

"Waaah..."

Watching this farce, both Roy and the Witcher were caught between laughter and tears.

"Ma'am, does the road ahead lead to Mahakam?"

"Who are you? I've never seen you around here!"

Hearing that, the farmwoman eyed them sideways. Seeing two utterly unfamiliar faces, she nervously pulled the wailing boy into her arms as though the people before her were ferocious beasts.

"Ma'am, we're not child traffickers. What are you afraid of?" Roy forced a gentle smile, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

His looks were utterly ordinary, but back at House of Cadell, he had been quite popular with women and children. Surely he wasn't frightening enough to scare them like this?

The farmwoman said nothing, merely casting a fearful glance at the tall, bald Witcher behind him.

Roy turned back to look at Letho as well, a look of realization dawning on his face. He muttered softly, "Poker face, strange pupils, a temperament cold as ice... You do look pretty intimidating."

Then he turned back and explained, "Ma'am, have you heard of Witchers? If Witchers weren't a little fierce, how could they keep monsters in line? Don't worry, we're only asking for directions. We'll leave as soon as we get an answer."

"You're Witchers?" The woman inspected the two suspiciously, then suddenly picked up the child and ran. She kept looking back as she fled, kicking a stone along the way and stumbling, nearly falling over. The child in her arms only wailed even more merrily.

"Don't run!"

The two exchanged glances, both puzzled. They slowly followed after her through the pine forest. Beyond curling white smoke, a small village came into view.

Beneath a wooden sign marked "Spansom," a red-nosed man in a felt hat stood at the village entrance with five or six plainly dressed village women. Several adolescent boys and girls hid behind the women, peeking out with dark, bright eyes as they shyly and curiously studied the pair.

The red-nosed man covertly glanced at the snake-shaped medallion on the Witcher's chest. Rubbing his hands together, he squeezed a false smile onto his face and said warmly, "If you two don't mind, why not have a meal in the village? We happen to have something we'd like to ask of you. Please, come with us."

Thanks to 161211131358140 for the generous support! Thank you all for your support!