A Bloody Morning
In the darkest hour before dawn, the Wolf Tribe tribe moved through the forest like ghosts. Yesterday's crushing defeat had left everyone burning with rage; now, they needed to vent, to plunder, and to wash away the shame of their defeat with the blood of the weak.
Xueya walked at the head of the group, the scars on his face faintly visible in the morning mist. The bone knife in his hand was razor-sharp, its blade gleaming coldly in the dim morning light.
"The Little Stone Creek Tribe is just ahead," the Chaigou said in a low voice, his back hunched like a true Liequan. "They live in caves beside the creek, with five entrances. Most of the tribe should still be asleep."
"Very good." A cruel glint flashed in Xueya's eyes. "Duyan, you take twenty men and block the two exits on the east side; Shichui, you take twenty men and block the two exits on the west side; Fenglang and the rest of you, come with me and fight your way in through the main entrance."
He paused, his voice as cold as a winter stream. "Remember, anyone who resists, kill! Leave the young women, the rest... do as you please."
The order was whispered down, and the Wolf Tribe warriors' eyes gleamed with excitement. They licked their chapped lips, gripped their weapons tightly, as if they could already smell blood.
The Little Stone Creek Tribe was still fast asleep. This small tribe of only fifty or sixty people barely survived by fishing in the stream and gathering from the mountains. They never imagined that disaster would suddenly strike on this ordinary morning.
"Kill!" Xueya gave the order, and they pounced on their prey like hungry wolves.
Duyan led his men towards the eastern exit. The two sleepy guards, having just heard the commotion and before they could even raise the alarm, had their throats slit by Duyan's bone knife. Blood splattered on the stone walls at the cave entrance, appearing particularly glaring in the morning light.
To the west, Shichui swung his signature Dashi hammer, smashing the wooden fence used as a gate with a single blow. The loud noise awakened the tribesmen inside the cave, and panicked screams immediately rang out.
"Wolves... it's Wolf Tribe!" An old man recognized the thugs, his voice filled with despair.
Xueya led the main force into the cave through the main entrance. The cave was dark and gloomy, but the Wolf Tribe warriors were already used to this environment. They pounced on every moving figure like a true wolf pack.
The chieftain of the Little Stone Creek Tribe was an elderly man in his fifties. He grabbed a wooden spear and tried to organize a resistance. "Don't panic! Concentrate on..."
Before he could finish speaking, a Shifu cleaved open his chest. Fenglang grinned as he pulled out the axe, blood splattering all over Mad Wolf's face.
"Chieftain!" Several young tribesmen rushed forward in grief and indignation, but were quickly overwhelmed by the warriors of the Wolf Tribe. Amidst the flashing swords and the cries of agony, the sounds of battle filled the air.
A mother huddled in a corner, shivering, clutching her baby tightly. Chaigou walked over, snatched the baby from her, threw it on the ground, and dragged the woman out by her hair.
"No! My child!" the woman cried out in anguish, but the Chaigou was too strong, and she was powerless to resist.
At the other end of the cave, three young men stood back to back, holding simple Shimao, attempting a final stand.
"Oh, not bad, you've got guts." Duyan sized up the three with his Duyan, a cruel smile creeping across his lips. With a wave of his hand, five Wolf Tribe warriors swarmed forward.
The battle was brief. Although the three young men fought desperately and wounded one of their opponents, they were quickly hacked to the ground. Their eyes were wide open, staring intently at the cave ceiling, as if questioning why the heavens were so unjust.
Duyan led a few people to count the spoils. In the corner of the cave were piles of dried fish, wild fruits, and dried wild vegetables. Although not much, it was a considerable harvest for the Wolf Tribe at this point.
"Take everything you can carry," Xueya coldly ordered. "Tie up those women with ropes."
Outside the cave, the morning sun finally shone on the earth. But in front of the cave of the Little Stone Creek Tribe, it was a scene of hell. More than a dozen corpses lay haphazardly on the ground, their blood staining the pebbles by the stream. More than twenty survivors were tied together with ropes, mostly women and a few teenagers, their faces filled with tears and fear.
"Let me go! You beasts!" A young woman struggled desperately; her husband had just died in front of her.
The Fenglang walked over and slapped her to the ground. "Scream again, and I'll cut your tongue out!"
Blood trickled from the woman's mouth, yet she still glared at the Fenglang with hatred in her eyes.
Xueya stood on high ground, coldly observing everything. His gaze swept over the prisoners, over the corpses scattered on the ground, and finally landed on the trembling children.
"Load the grain, prepare to depart," he ordered. "These prisoners, let them carry the grain. Anyone who dares to escape..."
He didn't finish speaking, but the bone knife in his hand said it all.
Just then, a faint crying sound came from deep within the cave. Shichui walked over and pulled a little girl, about five or six years old, out of a hidden Shifeng. She must have been forgotten while hiding.
"Chief, what should we do with this?" Shichui grabbed the girl by the collar, like he was carrying a kitten.
Xueya glanced at it. "Take it with you. You might be able to trade it for something on the way."
The little girl was so frightened that she didn't even dare to cry; she just kept trembling.
As the group prepared to depart, the Chaigou suddenly sniffed. "Chief, a few people ran west; they must have gone out to gather this morning."
Xueya frowned, but then waved his hand, "Forget it, a few escapees can't cause any trouble. Let's hurry up and get out of here."
The Wolf Tribe, with their plundered food and captives, vanished into the mountains and forests as silently as they had arrived, leaving behind only corpses and blood-stained caves as witnesses to the tragedy that unfolded that morning.
Meanwhile, in the western mountains, five members of the Little Stone Creek Tribe, who had gone out to gather resources, were running for their lives. They heard screams coming from the direction of their tribe and saw rising black smoke, knowing that something had happened to their tribe.
"Quick! Go and report to the nearby tribes!" The middle-aged man at the head of the group said hoarsely, his eyes filled with tears. His wife and children were still in the tribe.
Unbeknownst to them, they were the last survivors of the Little Stone Creek Tribe. And the news they brought would soon cause a huge uproar in the region.
The Wolf Tribe's atrocities are like Shitou thrown into a calm lake; the ripples will gradually spread and eventually affect every tribe, including the thriving Fire Tribe.