(Meanwhile, Back At Ashfang Village)
Meanwhile, back at Ashfang Village, the raid continued until the very first rays of dawn began creeping across the eastern horizon, as despite being caught completely off guard by the sudden assault, the warriors of Ashfang fought tooth and nail for the survival of their home.
The battle left both tribes horribly scarred, as although the Yellowtail Tribe ultimately emerged victorious, the cost of that victory proved far greater than anything Sorak had anticipated, as he lost nearly sixty percent of the warriors he had marched into Ashfang with.
"Damn it... where’s Helena? Where’s Sam?"
Sorak muttered in frustration, as by sunrise, the sounds of clashing weapons had finally fallen silent and the search for the dead and wounded had begun, while the crackling of burning huts and the groans of dying men continued echoing in the background.
The once mighty Ashfang settlement had now been reduced to little more than a graveyard of shattered homes and blood-soaked snow, while the bodies of fallen warriors lay scattered across nearly every street.
As while most of Ashfang’s defenders had died with their weapons still clutched inside their hands, the few who still clung to life were not granted even the dignity of a warrior’s death, as in what was perhaps a first for the tribes of the region, the surviving Yellowtail warriors instead chose to shackle and enslave the defeated men.
One after another, the battered survivors were forced onto their knees near the center of the village before heavy iron shackles were fastened around their wrists, ankles, and necks, reducing the proud hunters who had defended their homeland to the best of their abilities into little more than prisoners awaiting whatever fate their conquerors had prepared for them.
Among them knelt Chief Torak.
His entire body was drenched in blood, as one of his arms had been severed above the elbow while deep wounds covered nearly every part of his body, yet despite everything he had suffered, a bitter chuckle still escaped his lips.
"Ha...hahahhaha...."
He laughed, as standing opposite him was Sorak.
The Yellowtail Chief looked little better, however, wasn’t completely fine either, as one of his eyes had swollen completely shut beneath dried blood, while several deep cuts stretched across his chest, thigh, and shoulder, leaving even victory looking painfully expensive.
For several long moments, neither chief spoke.
They simply stared at one another across the ruined village, as despite having just fought a battle for life and death, neither men seemed to have an ounce of respect for the other, as in their eyes was only hatred.
"So this is what the mighty Yellowtail Tribe has become?"
Torak muttered, as he spat blood onto the frozen ground between them.
"Taking grown men back in chains."
He continued, as contempt twisted across his battered face.
"What do you plan on doing with us?"
Torak laughed.
"Making us farm your fields?"
He asked, as although blood continued dripping from the stump where his arm had once been, his voice never once wavered.
"You should kill me while you still have the chance, Sorak."
Torak warned, as he slowly raised his head.
"Because if you leave me alive today..."
He continued, as his bloodshot eyes locked firmly onto the Yellowtail Chief.
"I swear upon my ancestors that I’ll bury a dagger inside your heart while you sleep."
Torak growled.
"So grant me the death every warrior dreams of."
He demanded, as the chains around his only wrist rattled violently.
"I would rather die here in Ashfang beside my ancestors than live another day inside your filthy village."
He concluded, as Sorak silently stepped forward.
Without saying a word, he spat a mouthful of blood directly across Torak’s face.
*Spit*
"No."
Sorak answered, as his voice remained frighteningly calm.
"I granted death to almost everyone who called this place home."
He continued, as he slowly glanced across the countless corpses scattered throughout the village.
"But the handful of you still breathing..."
Sorak muttered, as his gaze returned to Torak once more.
"You’ll live."
He concluded.
"They’re still counting the dead."
Sorak said, as he let out a slow breath.
"But from the looks of it, I’ve lost more than half the warriors I marched into this village with."
He continued, as frustration briefly flashed across his face.
"That leaves Yellowtail vulnerable."
Sorak admitted.
"For the next few years, every neighboring tribe will be watching us, wondering whether now is the perfect time to strike."
He concluded.
"That is why I need something far more valuable than your corpse."
Sorak said, as he crouched before the chained chief.
"I need a message."
He continued.
"A message so terrifying that every tribe within these forests thinks twice before ever pointing a spear toward Yellowtail again."
Sorak muttered, as a cruel smile slowly spread across his face.
"You and the others will become that message."
He concluded.
"You’ll spend the rest of your miserable lives reminding everyone exactly what happens to those foolish enough to challenge my tribe."
The words struck Torak harder than any blade.
"No!"
Torak roared, as he violently struggled against the heavy chains binding his body while fresh blood immediately burst from several half-healed wounds.
"Kill me!"
He screamed.
"Kill me now!"
Torak begged, as for the very first time since the battle had begun, genuine desperation overtook the proud chief’s face.
However, Sorak simply turned his back without another glance, as in his mind, the decision to spare the few survivors had already been made.
"Round up the slaves. Put the men in one cage and the women and children in another.
No need to segregate the loot tonight.
You will all be allowed to lay your claims on the spoils once we are back in Yellowtail.
But today, we work as a unit.
Take everything from this fallen village.
Leave behind nothing.
Take the weapons, the food, the livestock.
Take everything.
Take your enemy’s eyeball if you want.
But loot to your heart’s content.
We have paid a heavy price for this victory..... so now it’s only right that we enjoy it."
Sorak ordered, as the tired Yellowtail warriors cheered at his words before immediately springing into action.