Chapter 62: The Way Back
Grok approached with slow but steady steps, clutching his side. Surprisingly, he had already recovered quite a bit from the devastating strike of the colossus’s tail.
Kellar looked him up and down, unable to hide his astonishment.
"The power of the Bear God protected me from death," said Grok, letting out a faint smile as he adjusted his fur coat.
Kellar raised an eyebrow wondering if there was some unknown passive skill or blessing tied to the crimson energy of the so-called Bear God. However, knowing it wasn’t the time nor the place to pry into foreign cultivation secrets, he decided to save his questions for later.
The team began preparations for the march. Using the same reinforced ropes they had used to subdue the beast, they bound the massive lizard’s body to haul it together across the snow. During the process, the small white cat reappeared out of nowhere and settled onto Kellar’s shoulder.
Krag glanced at the feline a couple of times with a hint of curiosity. During the battle, he had sensed a white blur moving at an absurd speed through the trees, but he couldn’t say for sure if it had been that tiny animal or a mere illusion of combat. In the end, he shook his head and dismissed the thought; after all, it was just a cat.
The squad set off on their return journey and reached the cave by nightfall. To Kellar’s surprise, the carcasses of the beasts they had hunted in previous days were no longer there.
"Where are the kills from before?" asked Kellar, looking at the empty space inside the shelter.
"They’ve been taken," said Krag, setting his gear down on the ground.
Kellar frowned, not fully understanding the squad’s logistics.
"There is a second team of gatherers who are weaker than us," said Krag, noticing the confusion on his face. "That’s why we move out first to clear the path and they head out two hours later to allow enough time. Since they aren’t strong enough to fight, on the first day we hunt large beasts that can feed the tribe and the gatherers haul them back. If they stayed any longer in dangerous zones, it would be a death sentence for them."
Kellar was surprised. He had internally harbored doubts about why they had left so many valuable carcasses abandoned in the cave, and now he understood it was all part of a well-organized supply chain.
"Well, everything seems to be done on our end," said Krag, looking out into the dark forest. "The other two squads might take longer on their respective hunts and keeping this colossal carcass here any longer is dangerous, it’ll draw other predators. Let’s go help them."
"I’ll stay behind," said Grok, leaning against the stone wall. "I still need to rest a bit before moving again."
"Be careful," said Krag, staring at him intently. "If you see any danger approaching, fall back."
"I’ll hide the carcass in the back of the cave," said Grok with a resolute tone. "If anything tries to enter, I will die to stop it before letting them steal this kill from us."
Krag nodded in silence and turned toward the rest of the squad, adjusting the straps on his gear.
"First, let’s head to the mountain," said Krag, pointing toward the craggy peaks rising through the night mist. "It’s the furthest location. Don’t break pace, and be careful not to get lost in the darkness."
The small group plunged back into the gloom of the frozen forest. Visibility was zero beneath the canopy of giant pines. Kellar, knowing that advancing blindly through hostile territory could prove fatal, decided to take action on his own.
"Hunter’s Scent," Kellar activated mentally.
Instantly, his sense of smell sharpened to supernatural levels. A stream of invisible scents flooded his nostrils, revealing trails of blood, frozen vegetation, and distant presences. He immediately picked up the scent marks of several predators lurking in the shadows, though the skill did not allow him to determine their exact power levels.
Kellar filtered through the environmental scents until he locked onto a familiar trail: the sweat, blood, and distinct aura mark of his fellow tribesmen. He followed the aromatic trail as it veered toward a steep slope.
"Halt!" shouted Kellar, raising his hand to stop the march. "They are right here."
Everyone came to a dead halt. Krag frowned, staring at Kellar with suspicion through the gloom.
"What is it?" asked Krag, tightening his grip on his weapon’s handle.
"Follow me, they are right here," said Kellar, breaking into a run through the frozen brush.
Without overthinking it, Krag, Marty, and Lupar followed close behind, dodging frozen branches. After advancing nearly a kilometer up the slope, still a considerable distance from the mountain shelter, the trail of fresh blood scent grew overwhelmingly dense.
Clearing a thicket of pines, they found them. The four hunters from the second squad were slumped on the red-stained snow, huddled together beneath a tree. They were unconscious, covered in deep, open wounds that bled relentlessly onto the ice.
"By the Bear God!" shouted Krag, dropping to the ground beside his men.
Marty and Lupar knelt beside them, desperately attempting to apply pressure to the lacerations to stop the bleeding.
"Hey, wake up!" said Krag, frantically shaking the shoulder of one of the warriors. "Brak, answer me!"
The hunter let out a weak, raspy groan, barely cracking his eyes open. His skin was deathly pale from massive blood loss and his lips were purple from the cold.
"What the hell attacked them?" asked Kellar, crouching down to inspect the gashes in their armor and flesh. "They have deep cuts all over their bodies."
"They used their energy just to stay alive while trying to make it back..." said Krag, raising his head toward the dark mountain peak with a clenched jaw. "Whatever prey they faced almost slaughtered them."
"Their wounds are too deep," said Lupar, clenching his fists in rage as he looked at his men’s critical condition. "Let me carry them back to the cave. Damn it, the shaman is too far away, we won’t be able to heal them in time!"