Chapter 109: The Echo of Thunder
Camouflaged under a dense layer of dry branches and ash on a high ledge, Brak remained motionless, enduring the unforgiving cold without daring to light a flame to warm himself. His breathing was slow and measured, while his eyes stayed fixed on the path leading toward the defile. After witnessing the enemy shaman’s dark rituals from afar, Brak was more certain than ever that his own tribe’s shaman was infinitely stronger. Kellar even seemed capable of foreseeing the future, for every move the enemy made was unfolding exactly as he had planned.
On the morning following the departure of Kellar and the caravan, the sound of boots striking the rocks shattered the valley’s freezing silence.
Emerging from the gray fog, a column of twenty warriors clad in black hides—reinforced with steel spikes and armor plates—advanced with a steady march. At the front marched Kaelen, a tall man of Nordic complexion, wearing dull iron plate armor and carrying a broadsword crossed over his back. Unlike the bearded commander, Kaelen’s movements were cold and deliberate; his eyes scanned every crevice in the rock while keeping a hand rested on his weapon’s hilt.
"Clear the way," said Kaelen, raising a hand to briefly halt the troop. "Keep your eyes open. The shaman’s magic says Blekgar fell in this direction."
The warriors formed a narrow line, entering the bottleneck of the defile where the path became too narrow to advance two abreast.
Hidden high above, Brak felt his heart pounding against his ribs. He waited in silence until half the contingent crossed the imaginary mark on the ground, above the first buried vessel of draconic powder.
"This is for my people, dogs," said Brak in a barely audible whisper.
Without hesitation, he brought the hemp fuse to the embers he kept in a small clay bowl. The fire ignited releasing a crimson spark that raced downward through the protective reed tube.
One of Kaelen’s vanguard stopped upon noticing the bluish smoke rising discreetly from among the gravel stones.
"What the hell is...?" said the warrior, bending down to look.
BOOOOOOM!
A colossal detonation deafened the bottleneck. The gravel ground split open in a blaze of black and crimson fire, driving an expansive shockwave that shattered the earth. The rocks buried alongside the vessel flew out like iron shrapnel, piercing through armor and bodies in an instant.
The column flew through the air in a mangled heap of flesh, scorched earth, and screams of agony. Six warriors died instantly, crushed and burned by the direct force of the impact, while four others tumbled down the rocks with shattered limbs.
Kaelen, who was marching a few meters behind, was thrown against the canyon wall by the shockwave. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs and left a high-pitched ringing in his ears. With blurry vision and his face covered in ash, he forced himself to his feet, drawing his iron broadsword.
"Ambush! It’s a trap!" shouted Kaelen, coughing blood as he looked at the smoking crater and his dying men. "Find the enemy shaman in the rocks!"
Driven by panic and desperate for cover, the survivors ran blindly forward, deeper into the defile... straight toward the spot where the second vessel rested.
From the ledge, Brak watched the scene with a spark of awe in his eyes. His shaman was a true genius; the enemy had reacted exactly as he predicted. Without wasting a second, he lit the second fuse.
BOOOOOOM!
The second blast was even more brutal. Trapped in the stone gorge, the explosion engulfed the remaining warriors in a hell of fire and shrapnel. The screams died out. When the smoke began to clear, only three men remained alive, crawling agonizingly along the ground with shattered bodies.
Brak grabbed his crossbow, fitted a bolt equipped with a small explosive charge, and aimed directly at the two survivors trying to stand.
Upon seeing the projectile flying toward them, the men tried to dodge, but it was too late. The bolt embedded itself deep into one’s chest and exploded immediately, blowing them both to pieces and leaving the gorge in sepulchral silence.
Now, amid the charred remains and thick smoke, only Kaelen remained barely alive.
Brak descended quickly from the ledge, reloading his crossbow as he picked his way through the smoking debris to capture the commander alive. However, before he could take ten paces, a deep, guttural bellow echoed from deep within enemy territory. The Black Skull Tribe’s war horns began to blast in a high-alert sequence, reverberating through the entire canyon.
"Shit, there’s no time!" said Brak, stopping dead in his tracks.
With the enemy village fully mobilized and a massive force about to deploy, he couldn’t risk getting pinned down. Brak raised his crossbow, aimed directly at Kaelen’s chest, and pulled the trigger. A second explosive bolt zipped through the air and struck the wounded leader dead-center, silencing him forever in a flash of fire.
Brak spun around and bolted at top speed through the defile, heading back to the Overlord Tribe’s settlement.
Minutes later, the fog in the defile parted to reveal the Black Skull Tribe’s shaman, who arrived at the scene escorted by thirty warriors armed to the teeth. Upon beholding the carnage, his eyes bulged in horror. The ground was covered with severed limbs, scorched flesh, and his men’s iron armor reduced to twisted scrap.
At first, an uncontrollable rage made the shaman’s body tremble. However, as his feet trod upon the blackened dirt and smelled the sulfur-saturated air, a cold dread began to grip his chest. Something or someone was hunting them, wielding a devastating power he had never witnessed in all his life.
Even so, his clan’s pride prevented him from letting those responsible escape unpunished. Pulling the dark skull from beneath his robes, he launched it into the air while whispering a chant in an ancient tongue. The relic began to spin, projecting a greenish mist over the mangled bodies until it displayed a floating image: the two brutal blasts in the stone gorge and Brak’s solitary figure firing his explosive bolt into Kaelen before fleeing.
"A single hunter wiped out everyone?" said the shaman, falling to his knees, his face pale as the image dissolved. "Impossible... What are those things that rumble like divine thunder?"