Ambush

The sun hung high in the sky as a party of sixty Mountain Clans wildlings marched along a flatland trail, driving a group of captives before them alongside their looted spoils.

The captives were tethered together by long ropes.

They were making their way along a narrow path on the plains.

Among the wildlings were members of both the Burned Men and the Stone Crow Tribe.

The appearance of the wildlings was starkly different from that of the flatlanders.

They were rugged and wild, lacking any semblance of uniform attire.

They wore no gleaming armor, clad instead in leather armor fashioned from animal hides.

Even their weapons were iron implements plundered from the flatlanders.

They moved quickly, their gait uneven and lacking any form of military formation.

A young Stone Crow Warrior came sprinting back from the woods ahead, panting heavily, his expression and eyes betraying deep unease.

The young Stone Crow wildling's voice trembled: "There is something strange in the forest! The trees are talking! The trees are watching me!"

A Burned Man with severe burn scars covering nearly half his face—Dell, Son of Chek—stepped forward.

He was the leader of the Burned Men contingent in this party.

A look of scornful mockery appeared on his terrifying, scarred face as he spat on the ground and swung his fist at the young Stone Crow, cursing:

"Have you lost your wits to the ghost stories of the mountains? Trees talking! Trees watching you!"

"Why don't you listen to see if my fist has anything to say to you!"

The young Stone Crow was struck hard and sent sprawling to the ground, blood gushing from his nose.

"How dare you!" An angry roar erupted from the Stone Crow side.

The Stone Crow Warriors in the party glared at Dell, Son of Chek, their hands already gripping the axes and weapons at their waists.

Though both were Mountain Clans, the Stone Crows and the Burned Men often clashed or even fought over raids and various other matters.

They were only a temporary alliance formed for this large-scale plundering operation.

"Stop!" Just as the conflict was about to escalate into a bloody brawl, an older, burly Stone Crow wildling stepped forward.

He looked at the young clansman on the ground, then at the Burned Men, who were also eyeing them with hands on their weapons.

Finally, he looked toward the forest ahead of them.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his clansmen's anger as well as his own.

"Dell, Son of Chek! Go your own way!" he said in an icy tone, pulling the fallen Stone Crow to his feet. "We will follow behind!"

With that, he did not look at the Burned Men leader again, but instead brought his Stone Crow clansmen to a halt.

"Suit yourselves, Stone Crows!" Dell, Son of Chek, retorted roughly.

The surrounding Burned Men warriors let out low, mocking laughter, their eyes filled with disdain for the Stone Crows.

The Burned Men leader brandished the longsword he had looted from the flatlanders, urging his contingent to continue forward.

The captive flatlanders, under the wildlings' harsh shouts, continued onward with expressions of even greater despair.

At the edge of the woods, an experienced old Burned Man frowned.

He said to Dell, Son of Chek: "This forest is too quiet; the birds aren't even singing."

"That is because they fear us—they fear the Burned Men!" Dell, Son of Chek, said at the top of his lungs.

The old wildling shook his head: "The flatlanders might be ambushing us!"

Dell, Son of Chek, grew angry: "The flatlanders? They are all at the coast right now, holding off the Free Folk from the sea!"

"Besides, they only know how to hide behind stone walls and shout! Out here, they only know how to run like sheep!"

"Don't talk like a flatlander! Take your fear and get to the back of the line! Everyone else, follow me!"

The old wildling fell silent, looking at the stubborn Dell, Son of Chek, and then at the silent forest.

In the end, he could only sigh helplessly and retreat to the rear of the party.

Deep within the woods, where the sunlight could not penetrate, it was pitch black.

Suleiman watched with suspicion and uncertainty as the wildlings stopped outside the forest.

He thought his plan had been leaked; a young wildling had just entered the woods to scout, only to run back out in a panic.

But what happened next surprised him.

The wildling party had argued, nearly coming to blows, and then had actually split into two groups.

Suleiman frowned.

Was this some kind of tactical plan—splitting a force into two segments to enter a trap one after the other?

Wouldn't that only make them easier to isolate and annihilate?

"Archers, ready!" he commanded in a low voice.

Roslyn asked from the side, looking a bit nervous:

"Master Suleiman, there are Riverlanders among their captives."

Suleiman said with a touch of silence: "Casualties are inevitable in war, but try your best to avoid harming them."

Roslyn said nothing more.

Suleiman slowly raised his right hand.

All the ambushing soldiers cast their gazes toward him, waiting for the signal that would decide life and death.

The air in the forest seemed to freeze.

Suleiman's soldiers were now hungry for battle, for battle meant wealth.

Dell, Son of Chek, led the Burned Men's contingent, swaggering down the forest path.

He felt increasingly smug about his earlier judgment.

"Look!" he shouted to the Wildlings beside him. "I told you the Stone Crow Tribe were all cowards! There isn't even a ghost of a shadow in this forest!"

The Burned Men warriors behind him erupted in a chorus of mocking laughter.

A sudden change occurred!

Countless wooden spears were hurled at them, interspersed with arrows.

The silence of the forest was abruptly shattered!

This was a cheap, long-range attack method that Suleiman had adopted.

Throwing sharpened wooden spears from a distance.

It was well-suited for their force, which lacked archers.

"Ambush!" the old Wildling at the rear of the column was the first to react.

He issued a warning to the group.

But it was already too late.

"Ah!"

"Damn it!"

Cries of agony and curses rang out in an instant.

Though the Burned Men were fierce, the beast-hide armor they wore was better than nothing, yet it offered little protection and was easily pierced.

In an instant, seven or eight Burned Men warriors were struck by spears and arrows, falling to the ground with screams.

Fresh blood stained the fallen leaves beneath them.

Dell, Son of Chek, was stunned by the sudden blow.

He instinctively raised his sword to parry, but was still struck in the left arm by an arrow, the tip burying itself deep into his muscle.

The sharp pain forced a beast-like roar from his throat.

"Kill them! Charge! Charge at them for me!"

However, the response he received was a second, even denser volley of wooden spears and arrows.

"Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!"

The sound of arrows and wooden spears piercing flesh was incessant.

The Burned Men's formation fell into complete chaos.

They scurried about like headless flies, trying to find cover.

Others swung their weapons in vain, attempting to deflect the incoming spears and arrows.

The captured Flatlanders screamed loudly, and the scene was a mess of confusion.

Suleiman watched the chaotic scene before him with a calm expression.

"Lushen! Roslyn!" he ordered calmly.

"Here!" the two replied in unison.

"Roslyn! Take your men and cut off their retreat! Pincer them from the rear!"

"Yes!" Roslyn executed the order quickly, leading his men straight toward the forest entrance where the Wildlings had entered.

"Lushen! Take your men! Follow me and charge from the front!"

"Yes!" Lushen drew his longsword with his right hand and held a horn in his left.