Siege woke up on the back of Sir Eric's horse.
He was laid across horizontally and every step of the animal sent waves of pain through him.
A faint sour odor emanated from him. He had needed to pee when he woke up last night, and it seemed like his body took the liberty to relieve itself without his permission when he was unconscious.
However, the only thing on his mind except pain was anger. He wanted all of them to die.
There were two people and one monster on his hit list.
First was the fae. The creature had to die no matter what.
Next was Gallan and Sir Eric. The two bastards deserved it more than anyone else in the group.
Though, Siege wouldn't mind if the whole group burned in hell. But for these two he would make sure himself that they did.
Siege had mixed feelings towards Edwin. So he decided it was probably best to just ignore them.
The sun was high in the sky, signaling that a significant amount of time had passed. The gruop was still in the forest but they had made a lot of progress since dawn.
Only three more days of walking until they were free from the grasp of Mortar.
Siege desperately tried to ignore the pain radiating from where his left arm used to be.
Internally sighing, he figured the the only reason he was even alive right now was because of his attribute [Stalwart].
Not only this, but Siege had realized that his perception of the passage of time and distance had improved.
He could only accedit this to his other attribute, [Journeyman].
A small smile made its way onto his face. His only comfort was that his attributes were pretty useful.
Otherwise he should have died from blood loss considering the crappy tourniquet on his stump.
The group traveled through the twists and bends of the forest silently.
No one was in the mood to speak.
A few men kept glancing guiltily at Siege, but this just made him slightly irritated.
Inside, Siege was really scared. His trial had just become exponentially harder now that he had lost his arm.
The horse trotted forward at a leisurely pace, neighing occasionally.
'Happy ass horse.'
It was way too happy for Siege's liking.
Holding the reigns of the horse was Sir Eric, his head pointing strictly forward as he walked with the trained gait of a soldier.
'This douche has probably already put what happened last night behind him.'
Siege wished he could get up and sock Sir Eric in the face, but he didn't even know if he could get up.
His body felt overwhelmingly weak, and all strength was drained from it. Truly, he was lucky to even be alive.
Putting aside his violent thoughts, Siege resigned himself to the long and silent, almost tranquil walk, and closed his eyes.
.....
After what felt like ages, night had arrived once again.
The group was extremely tense, distrustful of the fae's claim of peace.
As the group settled down into a new clearing, Sir Eric repeated the same ritual with salt and iron that he completed last night while sporting a deep frown.
Siege was no longer on the horse, now he was crumpled on the ground in a sad pile while Edwin and Aldur fed him pieces of bread and jerky, was well as sips of his remaining water.
Sleep did not come easy to the men.
They had not found the river Sir Eric had promised so they had not refilled their flasks. This left many of them thirsty and dehydrated.
Any bump, rustle, or howl in the night gripped their nerves.
Furthermore, they had not slept well last night, due to obvious reasons.
As a result, the group wriggled and wormed as they laid on the hard soil of the forest, struggling to even muster the will to close their eyes.
Eventually sleep did find them though, and thankfully the night passed without incident.
The following morning, the group continued their laborious walk and did eventually find the promised river.
Though calling it a river may be and exaggeration. It was just a larger stream, maybe just two meters across.
Hope seemed to fill the eyes of the party as they refilled their flasks, at least one worry had finally been lifted off their already sagging shoulders.
They were back to walking after ten or so minutes, and they only stopped one more time before nightfall.
On the fourth day, and their last in the dreadful forest of Mortar, Siege finally began to walk on his own again.
Although his pace was slow, this was already astonishing enough to the men around him considering what he had gone through.
He staggered a bit as he walked, unused to finding his balance without the assistance of his left arm.
But his body rapidly adapted to the oddity.
Although there was still a throbbing pain where his arm used to be connected, it was way more bearable than just days prior.
And astonishingly, it hadn't become infected by anything.
Siege thanked all the dead gods in his heart. If his situation had gotten any worse, he might as well have just killed himself to be done with it.
Over the past couple days, the atmosphere of the group had greatly improved. There was even the occasional joke here and there.
It was truely mind boggling how quickly the human mind could change.
Over the course of the day, the giant ancient trees that were akin to indestructible brown pillars placed down by a god, began to become sparser and sparser.
They were approaching the end of the forest.
All the men's eyes lit up with passion and excitement as their pace began to increase.
Even Siege felt his mood substantially lightened. He hated this evil forest.
After leaving the forest they would begin to encounter villages and would be able to eat actual food and maybe even sleep in beds.
Many of the men salivated at this thought, even Gallan looked to have some pep in his step,
After walking for a bit longer, the group finally passed the last tree and were finally free of the forest.
They had broken into a sea of vibrant green grass spotted with beautiful wild flowers of various colors. This was only enhanced by the visage of the setting sun.
It was very pleasing to the eyes, but anything other than the forest would seem extremely attractive to the men right now.
Almost no one looked back to the woodland. They were so exalted about their escape that they didn't dare look back, as if doing so would reset all their progress.
Siege though, he turned to the forest with a hateful glare and prayed that one day he would be able to return and burn it all down, even if it was just an illusion.
That's why he was the only one to catch a glimpse of a massive black figure retreating into the obscurity of the trees.
'It was definitely that weasel of a fae.'
Sieges glare only grew more intense, but then he scoffed and followed the group as they started to get further away.