Chapter 155
Kane's POV
The mountain path twisted upward beneath our feet, each step steeper than the last.
I walked at the front of the column, gripping the tattered totem banner. The fabric stirred in the wind with a soft rustling sound.
I could feel its weight—not just the wood and cloth themselves, but the trust of everyone behind me pressing down on my shoulders.
Heavy breathing and stumbling footsteps came from behind. A mother carrying an infant suddenly lost her footing, her body lurching toward the cliff's edge.
Before I could react, Steven had already rushed forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her and the child back to safety.
The baby woke with a start and began to cry. The mother clutched her child tightly, her face pale as she thanked Steven over and over.
"Slow down!" Steven called out to the entire group, his voice echoing through the valley. "Everyone slow down! Arriving alive matters more than arriving fast!"
I glanced back. The column stretched long like a winding snake. Elders supported each other, children were strapped to their mothers' backs, young warriors spread out along both flanks on alert.
Sunlight filtered through the clouds, falling on these weary faces.
Not far ahead, several young warriors huddled together, speaking in lowered voices. The wind carried their words to my ears.
"At this rate, we'll never reach Echo Valley."
"Why look after these burdens? Wouldn't it be faster to let the strong go first?"
"The old and the young only slow us down."
I stopped and turned to face them. The young warriors saw my gaze and immediately fell silent, but I could see the defiance and doubt in their eyes.
I didn't speak right away, just watched them quietly before surveying the entire column. Everyone had stopped, waiting for my response.
"The Lightning Wolf Pack abandons no one." My voice was calm, but each word rang clear and firm. "If you think the elderly and children are burdens, you're free to leave now. But as long as you follow this banner, understand this—we survive together, or we die together."
The young men lowered their heads. The column began moving again, but the atmosphere had grown heavy.
Blaze whispered in the depths of my consciousness: "Do you really believe what you're saying?"
"I have to," I answered silently.
We walked for several more hours. The sun gradually sank westward, casting long shadows across the peaks. An elderly man with bad legs finally couldn't go on. He sat on a roadside rock, gasping for breath, waving for the column to continue without him.
"Don't mind me," the old man said, his voice weak. "I'll only hold everyone back."
I walked over, bent down, and without a word lifted him onto my back.
The old man struggled to get down. "Alpha, I can't hold everyone back—"
"Shut up." I cut him off, adjusting the weight on my back. "You've lived long enough to have seen more than any of us young ones. When we reach the Stone Ridge Pack, we'll still need your wisdom."
The old man stopped speaking, but I felt something warm drip onto my shoulder.
He choked out: "Thank you."
Carrying the elder, my pace slowed, but I didn't stop. Frank came up from the rear of the column, took the totem banner from my hand, and raised it high.
He called out in a hoarse but powerful voice: "Children of the Lightning Wolves! Your ancestors conquered mountain paths more treacherous than this! Keep going!"
His words echoed through the valley, giving everyone strength.
The column began moving again, footsteps rising and falling in rhythm.
---
The next day, the landscape changed completely.
We entered the arid desert. Yesterday there had been rugged mountain paths and sparse vegetation; today there was nothing but endless yellow sand and cracked earth.
The scorching sun hung overhead like a flaming sword, baking every inch of skin. I could feel sweat running down my spine, quickly absorbed by my clothes and leaving white salt stains.
Water in the skins was rapidly depleting. Several children began crying from dehydration, their cries weak and grating.
An old man suddenly collapsed. I rushed over to help him up—his face was paper-white, his breathing rapid, his skin burning hot. He was suffering from heatstroke.
"We need water." Leah approached carrying Toby, her lips cracked, her voice tight with barely suppressed anxiety. "The children won't last much longer."
I surveyed our surroundings. As far as the eye could see, there was only endless yellow sand—not even the shadow of a single tree. Heat waves distorted the air, blurring the distant horizon.
A warrior approached me, lowering his voice: "Alpha, perhaps we should leave the weak behind and let the main force move ahead. That way at least some of us might survive."
I turned to stare at him until he looked away.
"No," I said. "The Lightning Wolf Pack abandons no one. We make camp here and send out search parties for water."
"But—"
"That's an order."
The warriors began setting up a temporary camp, using scraps of cloth and wooden poles to prop up crude sun shelters. I gathered several of the strongest warriors to organize a search party.
Dorothy walked over on her own initiative, sand dust on her face but determination in her eyes.
"I'm going too," she said.
"It's too dangerous."
"I can find water." Dorothy looked at me. "Faye taught me how to search for water sources in the desert. Trust me."
I hesitated for a moment.
That unquestionable determination left me unable to refuse. I nodded.
The search party set out. We trudged through the desert, our feet making soft shuffling sounds in the sand. Dorothy walked at the front, bent over and carefully observing the ground, occasionally stopping to feel the texture of the sand with her hands. About an hour later, she stopped before a dried riverbed.
"Here." She knelt down and dug away the surface layer of dry sand, revealing the slightly darker soil beneath. "The earth below is still damp, which means there's water underground."
We began digging. The sand was loose, but the deeper we dug, the harder it became. After digging nearly a meter down, we finally saw water seeping through—not much, but it gleamed enticingly in the sunlight.
We collected water in every container we could find, then carefully carried it back to camp. On the way back, I saw Steven comforting crying children, using damp cloths to wipe their burning foreheads.
I distributed what little water we had, prioritizing the elderly and children first. A little girl accepted a water skin and drank in large gulps, water running down the corners of her mouth, but she couldn't bear to stop.
I only took a small sip myself, moistening my cracked lips.
Steven came over and offered me his water skin. I shook my head.
"Save it for Leah and Toby."
Steven didn't insist, but the way he looked at me had changed—there was a deeper respect there, mixed with something I couldn't quite name.