Chapter 70: Hunter and Prey
On the Old Way, only the corpses of the draft horses remained at the site of the ambush. The caravan was slowly being pulled back toward the way they came by the combined effort of the group.
"I think the elves must have given up," Dandelion said, his face beet-red, the rope across his shoulder taut as a stick: "I feel like my arms are about to snap!"
"I wouldn't bet on it. Those pointy-ears are famous for being relentless," Zoltan's nostrils were flared like a bull's, and his breathing sounded much the same he was providing nearly half the pulling force by himself.
"What? Are you saying they'll chase us again?!" Dandelion cried out in a panicked, high-pitched voice.
"Not again. They're already here," Kolgrim said softly. He dropped his rope and looked vigilantly toward the forest. The sound of hooves was growing clearer.
"Quick, hide beneath the carriage. When the fighting starts, I might not be able to cover you all!" the Witcher instructed, drawing his sword.
"I shall encourage your fighting spirit with my song!" Dandelion hesitated for a second but then scrambled into the space beneath the carriage.
Zoltan also stuffed several pieces of cargo under the wagon, creating a relatively enclosed space: "Leave the safe spots to the poet. Dwarves don't have the habit of hiding while others risk their lives."
He much preferred swinging his axe to pulling a wagon while soaked in sweat.
"Arthur, how are you?" Kolgrim looked at Arthur with concern. Ever since that enormous barrier spell was cast, Arthur had remained seated on the wagon, his eyes closed. Although the Witcher didn't understand much about magic, he knew a simple truth: the bigger the magical spectacle, the higher the magic expenditure.
And now, they had pulled the wagon dozens of meters and still hadn't reached the end of the barrier. Just how long of a barrier had Arthur created?
"Hah, I'm fine." Arthur struggled to stand up. That modified barrier spell had nearly drained him completely. Every cell in his body was screaming, desperately craving magical nourishment.
He had experienced a similar feeling in Hoove Village, but back then, he quickly drew enough power from the nearby water conduit and then passed out for a good while. Now, however, there was nothing but sparse grass, and lying down to rest was impossible.
Arthur endured the splitting pain in his temples, shouldered his Temerian Blade, and assumed a defensive stance.
While waiting for the elves to arrive, one thought persistently nagged at him: Why did Triss never teach me how to draw power from the air or the earth?
The Book of Illusions explicitly stated that there were four sources of power in the world Earth, Fire, Water, and Air but neither Triss nor the book had ever mentioned anything other than drawing Water magic, and both were highly secretive about Fire magic. If he could use power from Air or Earth, the current situation would be much better…
The sudden stopping of hooves in the distance startled Arthur out of his daze. The elves were here.
Ignoring Red-Kite's warnings, the elves spurred their horses out of the forest, charging toward their paralyzed targets.
"Kill everyone carrying a weapon. Leave the one with the lute alive."
The female elf who spoke was named Toruviel. A thin scar ran across the bridge of her nose, indicating she had suffered a heavy blow years ago.
Iorveth snickered: "Speaking of weapons, I once saw a man's skull cracked open by a lute…"
Toruviel barked sharply: "Iorveth, I know what you're thinking! The singing poet must live, as long as he doesn't raise a sword against you. I want him to tell the humans that these latest attacks are the elves' revenge!"
Iorveth spat in disappointment: "Fine, you're the leader." He immediately shouted:
"Then we shall leave that poor fool. We will let the humans know that cowardly dryads are unworthy of this glory!"
The elves' horsemanship was superb; they arrived at the entrance of the corridor in moments. Toruviel raised her hand and tossed a pinecone, which passed through without any resistance.
"Ha! I knew it! It's nothing but a distraction spell from an ape sorcerer!" Iorveth shouted excitedly, spurring his horse and charging into the corridor first.
Toruviel cried out softly: "Don't rush in! Maintain formation! Iorveth!" But she followed him on her horse anyway.
"This…"
The corridor ahead wasn't one straight path as imagined, but was segmented every five meters. Toruviel looked at the elf on her left, who understood her meaning. The elf unhooked a sachet, threw it forward, and watched it pass through silently. This layer was still just a membrane, purely for obscuring vision, with no solid substance.
After the horses took small, measured steps through the membrane, what appeared before them was… another layer of membrane! Their recently tossed pinecone and sachet were lying just ahead. Iorveth kicked the pinecone, and it passed through this barrier without any hindrance.
And after passing through this layer, there was yet another layer!
"These apes in clothes know nothing but these cheap tricks!" someone cursed under their breath, yet no one dared to charge recklessly. Heaven knew if the human mage had set an ambush in one of those segments!
"Galarr!" Toruviel's voice was icy: "Ride outside the corridor and keep watch. If those humans try to escape, you must find a way to warn us!"
"Yes, Captain!"
The elf named Galarr spurred his horse and rode around the side of the corridor. But Toruviel immediately realized something was wrong she couldn't hear the sound of his horse's hooves at all! This ape sorcerer's corridor was soundproofed from the outside!
Toruviel bit her lip, suppressing the urge to call Galarr back. Galarr is a smart warrior; he knows how to delay the enemy. As long as we move quickly here, those humans still have no chance of escape!
Patiently passing through another dozen segments, they came upon the corpses of the dead horses.
"Those humans left in a hurry; these harnesses were cut." Iorveth was agitated: "Damn it, how long are we going to waste time? Those apes are going to get away!" With that, he dismounted and ran forward silently.
"Iorveth!" Toruviel hissed, but this time, it had no effect.
"How many battles are lost this way!" The female elf sighed, herded her remaining companion's horse outside the corridor, and pursued Iorveth on foot.
A deep sense of unease filled her heart. She was the one who held the initiative, yet now she felt constricted at every turn…
Passing through a few more barriers, she suddenly understood why this operation felt so helpless:
If this were still the glorious age of the elves, why would she bother with such flashy tricks? They would simply deploy a few Grand Elven Mages and summon meteors to smash them!
Even retreating to the time of stalemate, as long as they controlled the area, she and her companions could have simply waited outside until the mage inside could no longer sustain the corridor, then break the siege at their leisure.
But now, humans occupied the entire world. The hunt could be aborted at any moment by the arrival of reinforcements. They had no choice but to risk entering a battlefield prefabricated by the enemy…
Toruviel felt a wave of profound anguish. Her ancestors had squandered their empire to this state. She wished she could depose her ancestors for their failures…
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