Shock

The mountain path was rugged, and loose stones dug into his feet.

Timett Son of Timett panted heavily, sweat and dust caking his cheeks.

His chest heaved violently, every breath bringing a burning pain.

He had never been in such a sorry state.

He dared not stop. Flatlanders were constantly tracking his group, like shadows that would not leave them.

This meant one thing: the Flatlander army behind them had no intention of letting him go!

The Mountain Clans had lived in the mountains for generations. They were skilled at moving through rugged, roadless terrain covered in dense forest.

But now, a Flatlander vanguard could actually keep pace with his people.

There were at least a hundred men in the vanguard.

If his group paused for even a moment and left an opening, those weak Flatlanders would swarm them.

And once the main army arrived...

They would tear them limb from limb!

He knew how he treated Flatlanders!

And he knew how Flatlanders would treat him!

"Red Hand! Let the clansmen stop for a while!" a Wildling from the Burned Men rasped, trying to persuade him. His lips were cracked, and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot.

Timett Son of Timett whipped around, his gaze as fierce as that of a crazed giant bear. "Stop? Do you want those Flatlanders to catch up with us?!"

He raised his voice, his tone growing even more irritable. "The Flatlanders are right behind us! Like hounds, they won't shake off! They won't shake off! They won't shake off!!!"

He had no idea how the Flatlanders were doing it!

They were moving through rugged, roadless terrain covered in dense forest even faster than his own people!

He had never experienced anything like this. Helpless rage clogged his chest!

Timett Son of Timett looked over the group.

They were straggling along, and many Wildlings were wounded.

Everyone had their heads lowered, their morale at rock bottom.

To flee, they had abandoned the spoils from their great raiding war.

They had left them all beneath the walls of Stone City, unable to take them along.

They were wolves of the High Mountains, and they saw the Flatlanders as sheep.

But now they had become sheep, and the Flatlanders were the hounds hunting them.

They had lost!

They had lost completely!

"Timett Son of Timett!" A Burned Men warrior stumbled over, looking bewildered.

"The Stone Crow Tribe and the Black Ears Tribe aren't with us!"

"Some of our clansmen say they slipped away during the chaos of the siege!"

Timett Son of Timett's pupils contracted sharply. He grabbed the Burned Men warrior and lifted him off the ground.

"What did you say? Say it again to Timett Son of Timett!"

Of the Mountain Clans, the Burned Men were the strongest, with the Stone Crow Tribe and the Black Ears Tribe next.

He was shocked that the two tribes had left without a word during the siege, then filled with boundless fury.

The Burned Men warrior dangled in the air, gasping for breath as he stammered.

"They left while we were attacking the city!"

"They didn't say a word! They just left without telling us!"

"They even took their share of the spoils with them!!!"

"Cowards!! Traitors!!!" Timett Son of Timett hurled the messenger to the ground. His chest heaved violently, veins bulging across his forehead, and his blood-red single eye looked even more terrifying!

Timett Son of Timett roared furiously, "Cowards!! Traitors!! Traitors!!!"

It would have been one thing if the Stone Crow Tribe and the Black Ears Tribe had held back in battle.

They had even preserved their tribes' strength.

And on top of that!

They had made the Burned Men into a target for the Flatlander army!

They had used them to buy time!

They had managed to bring their share of the spoils back to the mountains!

And the Burned Men had gotten nothing!

He looked around. Weariness and confusion filled the eyes of his surviving clansmen.

He roared, "How many of us are left?"

The Wildling who had been thrown down struggled to his feet and answered shakily, "Red Hand! There are only a little over a hundred of the Burned Men left! Including the other tribes, there are only a little over three hundred of us!"

"Only a little over three hundred left!" Timett Son of Timett murmured.

The number was like a cup of water heated until it boiled.

It seared his body, burning his internal organs.

He remembered leading more than a thousand Mountain Clan warriors down from the mountains!

The Mountain Clans had never been so united.

Never had they fielded such a large army.

Now, fewer than four hundred defeated stragglers remained.

The enormous gap and crushing sense of defeat nearly drove him mad.

He had no way to answer to his tribe!

He threw his head back and let out an unwilling roar. "Aaargh—!!!!"

His thunderous roar echoed through the forest, startling countless birds and beasts into flight.

Just then, a Wildling who had gone ahead to scout came running back in panic.

"Timett Son of Timett! Up ahead... there are Vale ironclad Flatlanders blocking the way!"

"Their markings are exactly the same as those of the Flatlanders who came after us before!!"

"How many?" A fierce glint flashed in Timett's eyes, and his anger flared anew.

He was furious now, ready to tear the Vale Flatlanders who had given him false information limb from limb.

"Just four! They're on horseback! Wearing iron armor!"

Timett Son of Timett was so furious he almost laughed. They actually dared to come looking for him!

A feeling of searing humiliation surged through him. "Go! Drag them over here! Timett Son of Timett will burn them alive!!"

Though the Wildlings were exhausted, they heard they had a chance to vent their rage.

A hint of savagery rekindled in their eyes.

They had been losing for far too long.

They needed to let it out!

A moment later, four Flatlanders wearing luxurious armor and riding sturdy horses

were dragged from their mounts! They were hauled roughly before Timett Son of Timett!

"Timett Son of Timett!!" shouted the oldest-looking man, clearly the Flatlanders' leader. "What are you doing!!!"

"Light the fire!!!!" Timett Son of Timett sneered. "This is what happens when you deceive Timett Son of Timett!"

The Wildlings excitedly tied the four Flatlanders to thick tree trunks.

Soon, they had piled dry firewood at their feet.

A torch was brought close. The dry branches and leaves caught fire quickly, crackling as they burned.

"No! Don't burn us alive!" The Flatlander in front had lost his composure. Urine seeped from beneath his luxurious armor.

"I came to bring you news! Timett Son of Timett!" The flames scorched his thighs, making him scream in agony. "Timett Son of Timett! Spare me! Spare me! You've been deceived! All of you have been deceived!"

"Deceived?" Timett Son of Timett frowned and gestured for him to hurry up. "What do you mean?!"

The flames grew higher and higher, and the four men screamed.

But desperate to seize any chance of survival, the Flatlander leader shouted as fast as he could, as if clinging to a lifeline.

"The Riverlanders!"

"There is no army at all!!"

"House Deddings only sent a young noble who is just sixteen years old!!"

"His name is Suleiman!!!"

"He's only sixteen!!!!!"

"His men! From beginning to end, there were only three hundred of them! They're all peasant farmers!!"

The Riverlands never sent any reinforcements!

Timett Son of Timett froze, and the Wildlings around him fell silent.

Only the crackling of the firewood remained in the air.

Dead silence.

Only the four pitiful men being roasted by the flames screamed.