Blood Night

The night was quiet, with only a gentle breeze brushing past.

Yet the Blue-Skin Tribe's camp was brightly lit.

With nearly three thousand warriors from thirteen nearby tribes gathered here, the camp had become unbearably crowded.

Raucous noise kept spilling from the wooden hall at the center of the camp, where the tribal chiefs were drinking heavily.

Nara was the only tribal chief who had not joined the revelry. Instead, she sensed something strange in the air—as if something bad was about to happen.

She firmly believed the gods were warning her.

"Mother, I don't like it here." The speaker was a tall young girl wearing a veil as well, revealing only a pair of purple eyes identical to her mother's.

Nara turned and pulled her daughter into the tent. "Go take a look around the camp."

Natalie frowned. "But Mother, it's so dark. I won't be able to see anything."

But Nara insisted, "Go take a look. I have a bad feeling."

"All right."

Left with no choice, Natalie lay flat on a woolen blanket, held her breath, and focused.

The next instant, her eyes suddenly rolled upward. Her violet, amethyst-like pupils vanished, replaced by a chilling, pure white.

Outside the camp, a crow flapped into the air, cawed a few times, then plunged headlong into the pitch-black forest.

Nara sat cross-legged beside her motionless daughter, holding her hand, her expression slightly anxious.

But before Natalie could send back any news, a disturbance suddenly erupted in the camp.

Nara immediately tensed up, yet she did not want to leave her daughter at such a moment. Raising her voice, she called outside, "What happened?"

"Chief, it seems there's a fire in the camp."

"A fire?"

"Yes, but it doesn't look very serious. It should just be an accident. You don't need to worry too much."

But Nara did not relax in the slightest. Instead, she became even more certain that her premonition had been right.

Just as she hesitated over whether to send some tribesmen to investigate the fire, her daughter Natalie suddenly cried out and bolted upright.

Her eyes had returned to their usual purple.

But her face was filled with panic. "Mother! Mother, this is bad! I saw so many people—so many people marching toward the camp! They're all armed!"

With her premonition confirmed, Nara instead calmed down. After soothing her daughter, she asked in a low voice, "Don't panic, Natalie. Tell me, which direction are they coming from?"

"They're everywhere. We're surrounded! What do we do, Mother? Have the Reachmen come to kill us?"

"Probably." Nara struggled to remain calm. "But there must be one direction with fewer of them, right?"

Natalie took several deep breaths and tried to recall what she had seen. "I think there are the fewest people to the north."

"Good. I understand."

With that, Nara rose and headed outside.

Natalie jumped in fright and hurried after her, clutching her mother's arm tightly and refusing to let go.

Helpless, Nara could only take her out of the tent as well.

By now, the chaos in the camp had not subsided. It only grew worse!

Flames rose from more than one place. As the wildlings rushed about putting out fires, the camp became even more chaotic.

"The Tiger Tooth Tribe betrayed us! The Tiger Tooth Tribe betrayed us!"

"The Blue-Skin Tribe betrayed us! They've colluded with the Reachmen to slaughter all the wildlings!"

"The Longbeard Tribe are the traitors..."

A jumble of voices rang through the camp, leaving the wildling warriors at a loss. They could not tell friend from foe at all.

Trust gradually crumbled, and with it, this fragile alliance.

The warriors of the various tribes had been drinking and chatting together, preparing to march into battle side by side the next day. Yet now, they suddenly viewed those around them with endless suspicion.

If the tribal chiefs had stepped forward in time to steady everyone's hearts, they could have stopped the chaos from spreading further.

But strangely, since the chaos began, not a single tribal chief had appeared.

At this critical moment, the chiefs' wooden hall at the center of the camp had instead fallen into an eerie silence.

Quite a few wildlings ran over and knocked on the door, but received no response at all.

Nara took all this in, and her heart sank. But she knew there was no room for hesitation now. She quickly summoned several tribesmen and ordered, "Gather everyone immediately. Tell them to break north! If you encounter enemies, don't get drawn into battle. Just get away from this place as quickly as possible. Remember, this is not our war!"

"Yes!"

Just as she finished giving the order, Nara heard a deep, drawn-out horn blast from outside the camp.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

War cries followed.

In the darkness, countless figures seemed to charge out from every direction, completely surrounding the Blue-Skin Tribe's camp.

This became the last straw. The camp instantly exploded into panic.

The wildling warriors ran about like headless flies. Even those who wanted to draw their swords and face the enemy could not organize any meaningful resistance.

Seeing this, Nara gripped her daughter's hand tightly and shouted, "Everyone from the Wandering Crow Tribe, do not scatter! Follow me and break north!"

"Charge!"

"Why? Chiman, why did you betray us?!"

Inside the wooden hall, Liniya, chief of the Blue-Skin Tribe, roared himself hoarse.

His hands and feet were bound with thick ropes, and strange blue blood seeped from his skin as he struggled.

"Chiman, what benefits did the Reachmen give you?" the chief of the Longbeard Tribe demanded furiously.

"Chiman, have you forgotten who you are?"

"You're a wildling! You'll always be a wildling! The Reachmen will never trust you!"

"That's right! Only we are your brothers! Let us go, and we'll drive the Reachmen out of the Red Mountains together!"

"Right! Let us go, and we won't hold you accountable for what you've done tonight!"

Faced with the accusations, threats, and attempts at persuasion from the tribal chiefs, Chiman remained unmoved. He merely stood by the window, staring outside expressionlessly.

The flickering firelight shone across his face, making his handsome features seem somewhat sinister.

In a daze, Chiman recalled what Samwell had told him before this operation—

"I gave those tribal chiefs a chance to submit, but they still chose to resist. I will not give such people a second chance. I can accept the surrender of every other wildling, but not them. So when I enter the Blue-Skin Tribe's camp, I do not want to see a single tribal chief still alive.

Do you understand what you need to do?"

Chiman remembered his shock and fury at the time, but in the end, he had lowered his head and said, "I understand."

After an unknown amount of time, the commotion outside gradually died down. The screams and sounds of slaughter faded, while cries of surrender and pleas for mercy gradually took over.

The tribal chiefs trapped in the hall also gradually fell into despair. They slumped to the ground and no longer tried to persuade the traitor.

Seeing that the battle was about to be settled, Chiman knew it was time to fulfill his mission.

He had thought his heart had long since turned to stone, yet at this moment, a flicker of hesitation still crossed Chiman's eyes.

But that hesitation did not last long.

When Chiman turned around, his face had already taken on a cold, cruel expression, his eyes gleaming with mad, bloodthirsty light.