Under the cover of night, our group made its way toward the poachers' camp. Mannes had gathered reliable information suggesting that these poachers worked mostly at night, using the quiet hours to tan hides and prepare their illegal goods. With that in mind, we planned our approach, aiming to catch them when they were active, but not expecting an outright fight—at least, not right away.

I glanced at Mannes as we moved through the dense underbrush, the moonlight casting faint shadows on the ground. He looked calm, as he usually did, but I could tell by the way his eyes occasionally flickered toward me that something was on his mind.

Finally, he spoke in a low voice. "You're the one who'll talk to them. I think you're better suited for this than I am."

"Why do you think that?" I asked, a little surprised.

He sighed softly, looking at me with a thoughtful expression. "You dealt with those bandits back in the cave with a calm head and firm resolve. You didn't just use brute force; you used your words, your wits, to get the upper hand. That kind of approach might be exactly what’s needed here. These poachers are desperate, maybe even scared. If I go, they might think I’m here to drag them to the gallows, but you… you’ve shown that you're capable of more than just fighting. I believe you're more suited for this delicate situation—someone who can speak their language without making them feel cornered."

I couldn’t argue with that logic, though it felt like more responsibility than I wanted at the moment. Still, Mannes was right—if I didn't at least try to convince them, there could be a bloodbath before the night was over. The poachers were protecting their livelihoods, and with Tadeos breathing down our necks, failure wasn’t an option.

We reached the edge of the camp just as the smell hit us—a thick, choking stench of rotting hides, blood, and wet earth. It was worse than I had expected. They were doing all their work in this makeshift camp, and the stench was a testament to how long they had been operating here. Silvana, who had scouted the area earlier, whispered, “It’s worse up close. Let me know if you need backup.”

I nodded, steeling myself as I stepped into the camp. In the dim light of their campfire, I could make out a few figures bent over their work—tanning hides and sharpening tools, unaware of our presence.

I approached slowly, deliberately making noise as I walked. Startling them wouldn’t help anyone, and I didn’t want to give the impression that we were sneaking up on them.

One of the poachers looked up, at a rough-looking man with scars across his face. He squinted at me, clearly confused but not immediately alarmed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice rough from years of shouting or drinking—or both.

“I’m not here to fight,” I said, raising my hands in a gesture of peace. “I’ve come to talk.”

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“Talk? About what?” another poacher chimed in, this one younger but no less hardened by the life they led.

“About avoiding unnecessary bloodshed,” I replied. “I know why you’re here. I know what you’re doing. And I understand why you’re doing it. But there’s a problem—you’re caught between a rock and a hard place, and if you don’t act soon, it won’t just be you who suffers. Others will too.”

The poachers exchanged glances, suspicion clear on their faces. The older man narrowed his eyes. “We’ve heard that kind of talk before. People come in, say they understand, and then they take what’s ours. What makes you any different?”

“Because I’m not here to take anything from you,” I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. “But you need to know that the governor is aware of your operation. He’s already sent us here to deal with the situation, and if we fail, he’ll send his garrison. And you know what that means—innocent people will get hurt. Maybe even killed.”

The younger poacher, who had been sharpening his knife, paused and looked at me more intently. “You’re saying he’ll come after the village too?”

“Yes,” I said. “He’ll use them as an example. You’ve been supplying the villagers with meat and hides, and they’ve been protecting you in return. But when the soldiers come, they won’t care who’s involved. They’ll burn everything to the ground.”

The camp grew quiet for a moment, the tension in the air palpable. The poachers were torn, and I could see that they hadn’t fully considered the consequences of their actions.

The older poacher spat on the ground, his voice filled with bitterness. “So what? We surrender, and then what? We get hanged for poaching?”

“Not if we can make a deal,” I said. “I can speak with the governor on your behalf. You’ll have to give up the illegal trade, but if you cooperate, there’s a chance to avoid the gallows. You can start over, maybe even find a way to work legally.”

They were silent for a long moment, weighing their options. Finally, the older poacher spoke again, his voice gruff but less hostile. “And you think you can convince the governor to go easy on us?”

“I can’t promise anything,” I admitted. “But it’s your best shot. Otherwise, you’ll be up against trained soldiers, and we both know how that’ll end.”

The younger poacher seemed to be considering my words carefully, glancing between the older man and the others in the camp. “He’s right,” he said quietly. “We’ve already pushed our luck for too long. If the soldiers come, we’re finished. And we can't abandon our village in these times, I don't want the people I know to suffer because of us.”

The older poacher cursed under his breath but eventually nodded. “Fine. We’ll cooperate. But you better keep your word. If we end up swinging from a noose, I’ll haunt you.”

I suppressed a sigh of relief. “We’ll leave in the morning. I’ll make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”

As I turned to leave, I glanced back at the camp, feeling a mixture of triumph and uncertainty. Convincing them was only the first step. Now, I had to hope the governor would be reasonable enough to keep his end of the bargain. Even if not I will at least be saving the villagers.

I should hurry back to Manes and tell him I had succeeded. The negotiations had gone better than expected, and I could already imagine the look on his face when he heard that the poachers had agreed to surrender. But before I could take more than a few steps, a sound stopped me in my tracks.

At first, it was faint—just the distant rumble of hooves on the earth. But as the moments passed, the sound grew louder, more distinct. The neighing of horses and the steady beat of hooves approaching rapidly could only mean one thing: an army was heading straight for us. My heart raced as I turned my gaze toward the direction of the noise, straining to see through the darkness. The poachers were still unaware, but I knew we didn't have much time.