The Edge Of Giving Up

The Edge Of Giving Up
Chapter 125

The tunnel beyond was unfamiliar. Narrow, steep, and sloping upward. The air here was damp, filled with the smell of moss and rain. Lucien tilted the torch, studying the floor, which had fresh footprints.

Kael crouched beside him. “Same boots as before,” he muttered. “Whoever sealed us in left this way.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “They knew we’d find a way out.”

Aria’s gaze swept through the tunnel. “Then where are they now? Why aren't they attacking us now?”

There was no answer.

Lucien lifted the torch higher, lighting their way. The tunnel ended in few steps ahead, an exit, just beyond a curtain of vines. He motioned for silence and led the way.

When they stepped through, the sudden light stung her eyes. The rain had stopped. They were outside the cliffs now, standing near the lower ridge, the farthest edge of the camp’s border.

Kael turned in a slow circle, scanning the trees. “They brought us down here just to trap us. To see how far we’re willing to go to get the truth.”

Lucien’s expression was unreadable, as he spoke, “Or they did this, simply because they wanted to prove a point.”

He crouched, touching the wet earth near the base of the cliff. The mud bore the imprint of several boots, leading away into the forest. Each step perfectly spaced, deliberate.

Aria knelt beside him. “They were here not long ago.”

Kael drew his dagger, eyes narrowing at the treeline. “Then where the hell are they now?”

The wind shifted, carrying with it a faint metallic scent: oil, smoke, and blood.

Lucien looked up sharply. “Get down.”

They dropped just as something hissed past, embedding itself in the stone behind them, a bolt, thin and silver-tipped, still vibrating from the force.

Kael’s grip tightened on his weapon. “We’re not alone.”

Lucien’s gaze swept the trees, his voice low and steady. “No,” he said. “They’re watching.”

A second bolt clattered near Aria’s boot.

She looked up, and for the briefest moment, she saw it. A shadow in the distance, standing at the edge of the forest. Watching.

Then it turned and vanished into the mist.

They stayed low, waiting… listening, until only the sound of crickets remained. Then silence, broken only by the whistle of the wind through the trees.

Lucien stood first, “They’re gone.”

Kael pushed off the ground, brushing dirt from his hands. “Gone, or hiding?”

Lucien didn’t argue. “Either way, we can’t stay here.”

The healer emerged from the tunnel behind them, her face pale but composed. “What happened?”

“Someone took a shot at us,” Kael said. “Twice.”

Lucien’s eyes were still fixed on the forest. “They were careful not to hit. They wanted us to see them.”

Aria’s voice was quiet. “Why?”

“To remind us that they have the upper hand,” Lucien said, his tone flat. “Or simply because they can.”

The words hung in the air like a curse.

As they moved carefully through the trees until the cliffs and the hidden entrance were behind them. The forest was damp, fog curling low to the ground. Each step was slow, cautious, their breaths misting in the chill air.

By the time they reached the outskirts of camp, dusk was creeping in. Smoke curled faintly from the center of the encampment. But there was no sound. The camp looked hollow. Abandoned.

Torches still burned in a few places, but there were fewer faces. And the scent of fear lingered in the air, like a foul smell.

Lucien stopped, signaling with his hand. “Wait here.”

He slipped forward first, silent as a ghost. Kael followed more slowly, with his blade drawn, scanning every angle. When Aria caught up with them moments later, she froze at the sight before her.

The camp was wrecked.

Tents half-burned, supplies scattered, embers still smoking. The scent of blood was sharp in the air, mingled with ash. All around them was just… ruin.

One of the younger rogues, barely more than a boy, ran up to meet them. His clothes were soaked through, mud up to his knees. “Alpha King,” he gasped, eyes wide. “You’re alive!”

Lucien’s gaze swept over him. “What happened here?”

“There was a surprise hit from the north,” the boy said, panting. “Not long after you went down. Fire traps. Some of us fought them off, but…” His voice broke. “We lost over a dozen.”

Kael’s face darkened. “They came while we were in the cave.”

Lucien crouched near the center firepit, brushing aside blackened fabric. “No shit. They knew they wouldn't win against us, so they tried another method. Scaring our allies.”

The healer’s voice trembled as she stepped closer. “Then… whoever did this knew exactly where you were, when they did this.”

Lucien’s jaw set. “Which means one of the guards that had been with us, is the enemy.”

Kael kicked a broken crate aside. “So we’ve got a traitor, ambushers, and a burnt camp. This is one hell of a night.”

“Where’s your leader?” Lucien asked.

The boy pointed toward one of the remaining tents. “Inside. She's been waiting for you guys to come back.”

Lucien nodded and started forward. Aria followed, her chest tight with unease. She could feel eyes on her from every direction: rogues staring, whispering, some in anger and others… well the fact that you could almost taste their fear , spoke for itself.

When they entered the tent, the healer was already there, her hands shaking as she tried to clean a wound on an older rogue’s arm. She froze when she saw them.

Lucien didn’t waste time. “How many can still fight?”

The healer swallowed. “Half, maybe less. The rest are wounded, dead or they've fled.”

Kael crouched near the table where rough maps had been spread out. “If we stay here, they’ll come back to finish their work.”

The healer hugged herself. “Then what do we do now?”

“They won’t have to,” Lucien said. “Because we’re leaving.” He looked to the leader, “Tonight.”