23. Cat And Mouse

A deafening explosion erupted behind Nathanial and the other Everheart forces. He felt the ground quake and the vibrations race through the forest. Then came the distant rumble that blew the leaves back and pushed against his body. They stood on the hill, overlooking the portion of the caravan they had attacked.

Flames were rising against the storm, fighting with a ferocity that refused to yield, and seeing this, Nathanial felt remorseful. That explosion had most likely killed dozens of men. Setting their bodies aflame like timber thrown into a furnace.

Those who were lucky would die in an instant, and those who weren’t would be screaming in agony, begging someone to put them out of their misery.

Even Fredrick wasn’t in the mood to crack one of his signature jokes, knowing the sin that he had committed with his own two hands and the silence that followed. His eyes stared at the clouds climbing into the night sky with his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

Nathanial followed his friend’s gaze, watching him reinforce his composure before sighing. “That’ll buy us some time to create distance.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the patrols in front of us will let us off that easily.” Richard held onto the hilt of his blade. “We’re gonna be looking at one hell of a fight to get out of here.”

“But there is a silver lining in this symphony of chaos we created.” Fredrick forced a smile and wrapped one arm around Percy’s shoulder. “Right, Percy? Go on, tell them the silver lining.”

Everyone stared at the man who took off his helm. Percy wiped the sweat from his blonde hair, revealing his youthful face.

“Um… with what we’ve done, we’ve probably pulled a lot of attention to us,” Percy admitted. He hid back in his helm, letting the words sink. “A lot being… everyone within a ten kilometer radius… maybe…”

Nathanial froze mid nod and immediately turned to a nearby patrol member who had the same expression as him. They both nodded at the same time, and everyone around them did the same. The silver lining wasn’t for them, but for their allies. With the commotion they caused, there wasn’t a chance in hell the Empire would take it on the chin and not retaliate. There would be a stronger force pursuing them.

“Alright, we’re getting the hell out of here.” Nathanial clutched onto the strap of the bag. “We’re running full speed back to where we came.”

Fredrick cracked a playful tone. “Oh, come on, if there were any pursuers, I doubt they would catch onto us with the traps we’ve set along the way—”

Another explosion rumbled further behind them, except this time approaching their general direction. Nathanial focused on the faint blurs of light racing through the forest with his expression hardening. All the Everheart soldiers shuddered, some still clenching onto their wounds that had yet to fully heal.

Fredrick’s smile quickly faded. “Yep, I stand corrected.”

Together, the party broke out into a mad dash and sprinted through the heavy foliage of the forest. The rain pelted their armor, droplets clashing against iron as the men made their way back to the hill overlooking the battle between nations.

Yet, as Nathanial ran at the front, he couldn’t help but feel like something was off about the situation. That something far more sinister was happening in the shadows. Even if the Empire pushed through their blind spot, there would have been signs that a force of that scale was moving through their lands.

The watchmen, or even standard patrol groups, would have alerted their chain of command, and their forces were preparing to sortie the morning Nathanial and his group left.

So how did it all go so wrong?

Nathanial pushed the thought to the back of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to worry about such things; first, they needed to survive.

The eerie silence of the forest and the birds scattering in every direction sent shivers down his spine. Something was lurking in the darkness, but the Everheart forces couldn’t know what it was. All they knew was that every detour, every attempt to lose track of the pursuers, failed.

And the gap between the two forces was slowly closing.

“Nathanial,” Fredrick’s voice drew his attention. “We’re not going to lose these guys.”

His friend was right. Nathanial glanced at his men, noticing their ragged expressions of exhaustion. Some were gasping for air, barely keeping up, while others had to resort to burning their aura in order to keep up.

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What they were doing was unsustainable.

“Richard, if you had to guess, what would you estimate our enemy’s strength?” Nathanial asked.

Richard collected his thoughts. “Perhaps they are around the same skill level as the three of us, assuming they are chasing us at full speed.”

“Then what’s our plan?” Fredrick asked.

Nathanial kept sprinting with the other men in tow. He didn’t know. He didn’t know if they would survive the clash or how many more men he would lose. Their lives rested on his shoulders. Two were already gone, but how many more would he need to give just so that they could live?

He clenched his hands and grabbed the cold hilt of his blade. His iron gauntlet tightened, holding onto something more than just his weapon. Instead, it held onto the belief that they would overcome this situation. After all, Nathanial was sick and tired of doubting his men and, more importantly, himself for every action they took.