Chapter 48: The Captive

Chapter 48 Captives

"This knife looks quite handy, but it's a pity I don't really practice with blades."

In the hunting party of the Hong tribe, Zhao Yun turned the bone knife over and over in his hand, a look of regret on his face as he regarded the weapon.

"It's alright. Once we take over the Lang tribe, there should be a bone spear or two back at their camp. Just let the chieftain know and I'm sure you can trade for one," Li Li said, walking beside Zhao Yun, trying to comfort him as he discreetly hid his own bone spear behind his back.

Zhao Yun's eyelid twitched at Li Li's action. What did this oaf take him for, guarding him as if he were some kind of thief?

Li Li treated that bone spear like his wife—how could Zhao Yun not know? He wasn't some pervert with strange appetites, so he quickly changed the subject, not wanting to discuss it further with Li Li.

"Are we bringing these people back?"

As he spoke, Zhao Yun glanced toward the captured warriors of the Lang tribe, tied together in a row within the hunting party. Each man's mouth was stuffed with rough cloth, their arms and legs bound tightly. Several were suspended from a pole carried on the shoulders of two large Hong tribe fighters—none of the prisoners' feet touched the ground, giving them an unwitting taste of what it meant to be "well-treated captives."

Yet Zhao Yun noticed one was missing. The warrior called Headhunter wasn't among the prisoners.

Let us return to just moments before.

Headhunter, gripping his bone blade, was descending in a spiral along the giant tree, shouting in dialect. As he neared the ground, a long spear suddenly thrust out from nowhere.

He was caught off guard and failed to dodge—he could only watch as he impaled himself upon the tip, the spear piercing his chest.

Tracing the spear back, he saw a powerful arm, and as his gaze traveled upward, he met a face that stirred envy in his heart. For the first time, he understood what it meant to be handsome—and the feeling left him boiling with jealousy. He could not swallow this humiliation.

"You—"

"Shrrk—"

With a twist of his arm, Zhao Yun pulled the spear free from Headhunter’s chest. In an instant, a gush of hot blood spurted from the wound, choking off his words and snuffing out his last breath.

In his final moments, Headhunter reflected on his life. He looked up at the sky, and through the heavy clouds glimpsed the dim, yellowed sun—a symbol of his fading youth.

He remembered his younger days, so proud and headstrong, ignoring the old chieftain's warnings, determined to forge his own path into the vast wilderness of the Hundred-Thousand-Mile Mountains, dreaming of becoming a fearless hero of the tribe.

But the wilds showed him no mercy. He was hunted by savage wolves, battered by bears, and gored by wild boars. By luck and skill he dodged these dangers and pressed on into the mountain depths.

Yet the wilds were not done with him. At the mountain's entrance, a tiger blocked his path and tore half his face away. Stumbling and bleeding, he barely escaped with his life.

Then he was captured by a tribe from the deep mountains and forced to toil endlessly in their mines. In the end, he sold his body and soul, trading months of desperate companionship with a woman named Cui for a chance to escape.

After his escape, reality hit him hard. In the face of the cruel wilderness, he was nothing. He crept back to his tribe, embellished his stories with boasts, and buried his past with caution.

His strength, still above average, allowed him to regain his place in the tribe. In time, he nearly forgot his past, convincing himself that he truly was the fearless warrior who had braved the Hundred-Thousand-Mile Mountains.

As his blood poured out, Headhunter seemed to see a plump woman waving at him—Cui, the one who helped him flee the mines.

Back then, all he cared about was escaping slavery and never thought about what she had sacrificed for him. She would surely have been harshly punished when his escape was discovered.

"Cui, I'm coming."

A faint smile touched Headhunter's lips as if recalling some sweet memory. He reached out to touch Zhao Yun’s face, then let his head fall onto Zhao Yun’s shoulder—and with that, he breathed his last.

Zhao Yun was thoroughly bewildered. What was wrong with this man? He’d been hiding in the hollow of a tree when, out of nowhere, someone fell from the sky and impaled himself on his spear—then had the gall to caress his face and die with his head on his shoulder. It was utterly revolting.

Shuddering at the memory as he walked back with the hunting party, Zhao Yun felt relieved that Li Li and the others hadn't arrived sooner. Otherwise, his reputation as a hero would have been utterly shattered.

The operation had gone smoothly. Except for the inexplicable demise of Headhunter, all other enemies were knocked out and brought back to the tribe's camp, imprisoned for now until the complete conquest of the Lang tribe, when their fate would be decided.

After dealing with two enemy hunting parties, Li Hongshen was now patient and methodical. Besides maintaining the watch shifts, he spent each day trying to persuade the captured warriors to surrender.

Once they were given a basic language skill book, communication was possible. It was the rainy season, and with all camp affairs arranged, everyone simply followed orders. This left Li Hongshen with plenty of time to interrogate and convert the prisoners.

Upholding the principle of treating captives well, Li Hongshen ensured they were not mistreated. Each man had his own room, a daily ration of food and drinking water—enough to keep them alive, if not quite full.

The rest of the day was spent on persuasion, in shifts. Li Hongshen would talk, then Shaman Ma would take over, and after Ma came Li Li. Even at night, patrols would stop by to “check on their wellbeing,” ask after their needs, and make sure they felt the warmth of the Hong tribe.

In the end, under Li Hongshen’s influence, sixteen men gave up their former lives, pledged loyalty to his tribe, and revealed valuable information about the Lang tribe.

In truth, the Lang tribe had few warriors—having only recently established their altar, their fighting force numbered just over sixty, including those lost or crippled during hunts.

Only forty-eight were fit for duty. After accounting for those out hunting with Bullhead and those already captured, there were only fifteen warriors left in the Lang tribe’s camp.

Moreover, food supplies were running low. In less than a week, the tribe would run out of grain, and the remaining warriors would probably have to venture out in search of food.

With this information, Li Hongshen called together Shaman Ma and the others to prepare for the fourth stage of their plan.

They would gather their warriors and attack the Lang tribe’s camp. This action had originally been planned for after the rainy season, but Li Hongshen feared that food shortages would reduce the Lang tribe’s population—a result he found most undesirable.

That was not something Li Hongshen wished to see.

(End of Chapter)