Heroes to Hunted

Chapter 97 Spoils Of The Raid

?The metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils as I surveyed the scene. The room was a massacre of death, with multiple blood pools staining the floor, serving as a constant, grisly reminder of what we'd done.

Even so, my mind was focused elsewhere.

'Good thing this place is soundproofed,' I slumped my head in relief. If it weren't, we'd be overrun by guards already, given the woman's shouting.

Mizuno snapped out of her daze and took charge. "Let's get to work," she said, gesturing to the crates and sacks of food. "We need to grab as much as we can carry. Bread and grain first, then anything that has a long shelf life. And Barik," she matched his eye contact, "fix up that shoulder wound. After that, you know what to do."

"Aye, Ma'am," Barik replied, stowing his weapon and dusting his hands. He then reached into his rucksack, retrieving another glass flask containing a thin crimson liquid. Upon popping the cork, he brought the bottle to his mouth and angled the bottom upward. The sound of glugging could be heard through the silence as he ingested the potion.

Instantly after consumption, the flesh around his shoulder encroached on the wound as if warring against it. It divided and conquered until the only aspect of injury that remained was the stain of blood.

Barik loosed a loud exhale and smirked. "Good as new!" he gruffly exclaimed, bringing his scarred arm to his mouth. He then groaned as he wiped the driblets from his lips and beard. Finally, he muttered, "Tastes like shit, though," and stored the emptied bottle back into his pack.

Though Mizuno's cryptic order to Barik intrigued me, I followed her instruction and began rifling through the supplies. Joseph eventually joined in, but it took some rousing from Mizuno before he pulled himself together.

The three of us worked in synergy and silence, the quiet only broken by the creaking of opening crates and the rustling of untying sacks.

During our search, we gathered bread, apples, cabbages, potatoes, beets, radishes, onions, and even seeds for gruel. Soon, a mountain of food was piled up in the center of the room, enough to last the camp for weeks.

"Now what?" I asked, pointing to the stacked burlap sacks. "We don't have any transport, and we can't carry all of this on our backs."

Mizuno straightened her posture, stretching one arm upward while gripping its wrist with the opposite hand. Then, when she finished, she pointed me toward Barik. "Like I told you back at camp, he'll take care of it."

I followed her gesture to see an intriguing yet confusing sight.

During our packing, Barik was in the middle of his own process.

He was crouched, with his palms flattened to the dirt floor and drawing in brown orbs. Surrounding him in a circle were six deep holes. Beside them, the missing rock from said pits was congealed together, forming a man-sized pillar each.

Seemingly on their own, the pillars molded and sculpted into images reminiscent of bipedal dolls, giving the illusion of a squad of clay soldiers. Though smooth in some areas, their surfaces were also jagged and chaotic, with various folds in others.

"Whew," Barik smirked and dragged his sleeve across his forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt and sweat behind. "Been a while since I've done this."

The sight was indeed impressive, but the usefulness of what he'd done had yet to be seen. As of that moment, we only had a series of well-made art sculptures. Not something that would aid our situation as it was now.

"Could I ask how that helps?" I shrugged my shoulders, feeling the tension in my neck and the weight of my rucksack on my back. "I don't see how some sculptures will be useful."

Barik chuckled and flexed his fingers. "I could tell you, kid. But it's better if I show you." Then, he traveled to the closest doll, flattening his palms atop the sculpture's head. He closed his eyes, and his brow creased, a sign he entered a deep focus.

Several moments passed as I watched with no result. Eventually, unease prevailed over my patience, so I opened my mouth to speak. But I was stopped when I saw a sight that froze my words to place. Despite that, the surprise left my mouth agape.

All across the doll's clay and stone body, glowing runes of various hues appeared, painting the doll's body as if they were tattoos. Geometric circles, strange slash marks in varying patterns, and other symbols were inscribed all over its body.

Then, Barik stood up with a satisfied grin, moving on to the next, to the next, and to the next until he reached the final doll.

Though each process was awe-inspiring to witness, one shocking fact assailed my mind. 'The symbols...they look just like the ones on the strange carriages. Rune-coaches, I think they're called.'

Barik stepped away from the final one, rubbing his hands together in triumph.

With the similarity in the carvings, I couldn't help but feel my intrigue in his past shift to suspicion. 'Who are you, Barik?' I questioned while stealing subtle glances. His enigmatic past as a soldier suddenly left me with a feeling of unease in my gut.

'Focus on the mission,' I shook myself from thought. Now wasn't the time to be questioning the integrity of my comrades. Besides, I was quickly distracted from my unease when the purpose of the runes was revealed.

Once lifeless and inanimate, each clay doll began quietly quaking in place. They ground and scraped against the floor, cracking and crumbling to form appendages.

When the process was over, we had six more able bodies crafted from stone, ready to help carry the sacks to camp.

"See?" Barik addressed me and planted a dirtied hand on my shoulder. "I told you, it's better to show than tell you. I make a mean golem," he chuckled.

I was too absorbed in the sight of living rock to respond. The dolls seemed to radiate life, accompanying the glow of light enveloping each. 'Magic is...amazing!' Now was the moment I realized magic made the impossible...very possible.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Mizuno made an announcement. It was one I knew I'd hear since the beginning. One I preferred. However, it was one I dreaded, nonetheless.

While the golems stomped and crackled with mechanical movements, loading supplies onto their backs and creating a cacophony of noise. Mizuno solemnly said with a tone of regret, "Our mission is complete. We're heading home. Rescuing the captive is too dangerous, and we cannot risk the success of this mission for a single person, so we're leaving her behind."

She paused to let the declaration sink in. Then, with a downcast gaze, she apologized to the one most likely furious with the conclusion. "I'm sorry, Joseph," Mizuno apologized with genuine regret. But, alarmingly, there was no response.

"Joseph?" Mizuno inquired, and we three glanced around the room to see his presence was missing from it.

Though he hadn't said a word about his plan, I knew what it was inside and out.

'You dumb bastard,' I cursed both him and myself. 'I should've kept a better eye on him. Of course, he'd do this!' My muscles tightly constricted in anger and stress, knowing he might've just gotten himself killed by doing what we all wanted to.

Barik's expression hardened with dread as he stated the fact we all knew. "The kid left to rescue the girl..."