My legs moved on their own, subconsciously.
Crunch! Crunch!
Crushing whatever came beneath my feet.
I ran towards the opening created on the surface from where the flare was launched.
Before the operation started, I had told the barbarians that were outside surrounding the hideout what to do if such a mishap were to occur: "Be on the lookout but hidden."
They had to hide themselves soon and be on the lookout for the enemies that would try to leave this place or the incoming enemy.
Crunch! Crunch!
I could hear the crushing crunching sound behind me, and I took a quick glance. At a bit of a distance from me, the old hag was following me, albeit slowly.
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"Heheheh- kayak!" The man on the ground sat against a rocky wall. He appeared scrawny, with a semi-bald head, a rather detestable face, an elongated nose, and teeth of varying shades. He emitted a bizarre, blood-choked laugh, clearly revelling in the presence of those before him.
He didn't look injured but was punched around like a rag doll and then thrown against the wall.
Though he was injured, the smile on his face never left, as what had transpired earlier was his victory against these individuals who had attacked them out of the blue.
"You mother fuckers, you will never make it out alive. Hehehehe! You will die b- Kayak!" He again screamed at the top of his lungs, his nerves from his collarbone to his upper neck visible as he laughed with all he had.
Whatever he said to the individuals in front of him, he only saw a confused look on their faces, and this made him believe his words were taking effect, and even if he died now, he had fulfilled his part and had also seen them this way.
However,
"This son of a bitch won't shut up!"
"And he's actually enjoying this!"
All six individuals, who were none other than Alcatraz and the five barbarians he led, surrounded the man who had just played them in this underground cave room. They couldn't understand what he said, but they could sense the pitiful sense of victory that this bandit, who might even be on his last straw of life, was emitting.
Alcatraz glanced back, following the nearly invisible thread that had led to the blunder. In doing so, he observed the expressions of the barbarians who stood behind him.
Their eyebrows were edging closer, and their pupils were shaking; one of them had even bit down on her lips to stop the tears from falling while clenching their fists tightly. The two individuals who had spoken earlier did so with trembling voices, their anger evident at both the blunder and this annoying captive who seemed to derive pleasure from their predicament.
Alcatraz unclenched his fists; he was calm. Even though this setback would allow their enemy to know of their presence and give them the chance to prepare, he was still calm because if he wasn't, all the responsibility would fall on his chief, his best friend, who might be reckless but was thorough, and he always saw things till the end.
A glint of ruthlessness flashed inside Alcatraz's eyes. He knew what he needed to do to minimise the damage caused by this mishap.
He turned to face the five barbarians. They appeared shaken, not just on the surface but deep within. The events of the past year had left indelible scars on them. Their world had been plunged into darkness when their tribe was attacked, and their emotional wounds ran deep—wounds that might never fully heal even with vengeance. They were like broken vessels, and even if those vessels were mended, they would never hold the same contents as before.
He knew it because he too wouldn't be able to feel the same way and live the same way that he used to.
Alcatraz had no desire to see his tribe suffer such a fate. When he was a child, he liked the stories of their ancestors, who were bestowed strength by their Maker, but as he grew older, he understood how terrifying all this was.
"Let's just k-kill him." Alcatraz looked at the barbarian who spoke; she was the female barbarian who had bit down on her lips so hard that it seemed they bled. Her name was Alika Sinclair. He had known her ever since he could remember her beautiful face with big eyes, curved eyebrows, a perfect nose for her face, and juicy, meaty lips. However, that beautiful face had dark circles under her eyes, as if they had been there for ages, seeming natural. The tears that she had shed had left their mark on her face.
He still remembered the day when she would persistently take him and Skylar to look at passing caravans from a valley, and she would look at the girls of seemingly high status and unparalleled beauty. She would always look at the things they wore—their luxury clothes, their shining gems in their necks, and their hands also filled with ornaments that we had never seen before. Her dream was to dress like that someday, even with her warrior-built body.
She was wearing some of the ornaments that she would usually wear: a big round necklace and three more necklaces that only had round different coloured stones; on her hands, she also wore tight bracelets, always sticking to her hands and never falling from their place; beads of different colours interwoven and kept in place with sticky rubber substance that she found; she even had leaves of different colours above her elbow held together by vine.
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However, her hands, which used to be flawlessly lightly muscled and gorgeous, now had cuts and bruises all over. She was 5'11, but these constant battles had made her shoulders heavy with blood, which made her look small.
Alcatraz shook his head. Even he wanted to kill this bandit bastard, who had an annoying face and was getting a sense of victory. However, he couldn't because he remembered what his chief, his best friend, had told him: "No killing! Not at any cost, we need manpower at the moment, a lot of manpower, all we could get, we need it for our people and my plan."
It didn't mean he had to put himself or the other barbarians in danger; it meant they could beat the snot out of any of these bandits, but killing was just prohibited.
Alcatraz looked around, ignoring the annoying laughter that the bandit would occasionally emit while fighting his pain. A rocky chamber with many lanterns hung on the wall was the only illuminating source in this crooked hideout that seemed more like a dungeon.
The information they had gathered suggested that there were twelve bandits in this hideout, but the sudden appearance of this thirteenth bandit, who was this man who was injured, could only lead to different possibilities that he didn't have time to consider at the time. None of the barbarians who were positioned to monitor here ever knew about the thirteenth bandit, despite watching the hideout day and night and not leaving it alone for a moment.
Thirteenth bandit's sudden appearance and him leading them into this crooked room and then him breaking the thread instantly destroyed the ceiling of the cave, and before the moonlight could reach the cave, a flare tearing through the air-launched with thunderous speed and blasted with a deafening sound.
"Let's proceed with the plan; we'll head to the other hideouts as discussed earlier, albeit first we'll meet the Chief and ask for his opinion," Alcatraz commanded. To him, something felt off, as if he and Skylar had overlooked something.
They were all about to walk off towards the exit of the chambers of the hideout. However,
Thud!
They saw their chief jump from the opening in the ceiling and land in front of the bandit with a heavy impact on the ground.
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I landed with a heavy impact on the hard ground, and an instant jerk coursed through my legs, though not painful enough to make me limp. I glanced around, quickly taking in the situation.
There was a sadistic tension in the atmosphere as I glanced at the man leaning against the rocky wa-
I immediately turned my head towards the other side, facing the barbarians.
'Shit! What the fuck, that man—no, that bastard—can win the ugliest and creepiest face award of all time with those shady teeth and horrendous annoying face.'
My lips twitched to curse that man aloud and kill him with my curses, but I held myself back.
I looked at all the barbarians; the air on their sides felt remorseful and angry, just like their expression. However,
I clapped my hands hard, garnering their attention. I didn't completely understand their mentality, but I knew how horrible they were feeling; nothing was going right for them, and this incident that would have marked a new start for all of them also went to the gutters pretty soon.
Alcatraz's mention of me being blessed by the Maker surely did wonders and gave them tiny bits of hope, but that was not enough to solve all the problems.
'What happened has already happened; we don't have time to waste.' I wanted to say this, but I couldn't. They were like inflated balloons; not only did they not have the air they needed to be able to float, but they also had scars that wouldn't allow them to fill the air, however much they tried. First, I needed to heal those scars, and for that, I had to take things bit by bit. However, I was in no mood to take things slow and, bit by bit, heal, so I was starting it again with a different route.
First of all, I looked at the tallest barbarian, an easy 7 '1; not only was he the tallest but the bulkiest too, but don't let that fool you; he was by no means slow, only slower to me and Alcatraz.
He maintained a well-groomed appearance, with cleanly shaven sides of his head. Atop his head, he boasted a mane of long, jet-black hair, meticulously combed to the right and resolutely unmoving. A striking feature was his braided beard, also a deep black, adorned with various bones of different colours that held it together.
From head to toe, he was encased in a suit of armour that had been a cherished heirloom in his family for generations. This armour featured a range of brown shades, transitioning from a deep, dark hue to an even darker one. His hands and legs were protected by wooden guards meticulously shaped to fit his form and securely fastened with sturdy ropes.
Yet what truly set him apart was the colossal hammer he wielded. Its handle stretched from his head to his knee, and the hammerhead bore a menacing spike on one side while the other gleamed with a plain, dark coal-coloured surface. He was the barbarian who always wanted to be the vanguard in any battle they fought. His name was Tharl Smizgok Fanrind.
"Tharl," Locking eyes with him, I called out his name. His eyes were fierce and resembled those of a hungry predator. He took a step forward.
I continued, "And Alcatraz, you both will lead a team of four barbarians. Tharl, you will go to the downstream one, and Alcatraz, you will go against the stream." I then looked around, locking eyes with ever-
"Kekekeke! Yo-u, you fuckers, you'll all d-" Before that bastard could interrupt any further,
Thud!
I didn't even have to turn around to know who fell on him and landed.
'For the first time that Hag has done something useful,' my quick thought ended, and I continued the instructions.
"Rampage!" My voice, which until now seemed neutral, not fazed by the blunder that occurred, now boomed. My hands, which were just idle, were now on the shoulders of Tharl and Alcatraz.
I simultaneously looked in both their eyes, and continued, "Rampage! I want you to go on a FREAKING RAMPAGE! They should fucking know that they'll be facing the FREAKING LAST BARBARIANS." My voice was edging louder and louder. I wasn't just saying some random bullshit; I had thought about it hard.
Now that the beans had been spilled and the upcoming battle seemed inevitable, and as we were going to make this place our new home, shouldn't we send our neighbours some gifts so that they would know who they were dealing with?
"I want you both to make it seem like hundreds of us attacked both hideouts. Eliminate anyone on sight and drench the place in their blood. Leave no corner untouched. Make them fear us. Their fear will be our weapon."
Hoo! Hoooo! Hoooooo!
I could hear it; not only I, but everyone that stood there could hear it; it was their own breathing that was getting heavy, rapid, and excited. No, they didn't forget their mistake, but they also weren't going to sulk in it when the chance to rectify it was this close.
"They have hounds capable of tracking the path to the hideouts, so spreading blood everywhere will work in our favour. I even want you to urinate in different directions to further confuse them. In the end, I want to ensure they focus their search on these hideouts alone."
Not more than 7 minutes had passed since the mishap occurred, and I had explained what I thought could buy us time till I, along with other barbarians, could build the town hall.
"CHIEF!" Tharl spoke, his eyes and voice both excited, and his hands clenched tight. "You really won't mind killing, right?"
Nod.
I gave him the nod that he was certainly excited about.
"BUHAHA! BUHAHA!"
"I'LL BE THEIR DOOM!!! BUHAHA! BUHAHA!"
'Fuck, my ears hurt!'