Elder Etug's voice echoed through the now-deserted barbarian village, a mix of disbelief and frustration coloring his words.
"They've run away," he muttered, the weight of the commander's ultimatum bearing down on his shoulders.
Steeling himself, Elder Etug issued the order, his voice heavy with the knowledge that their mission now hung in the balance.
"Send the scouts! Find them at all costs." His mind was clouded with the looming consequences should their pursuit prove fruitless.
As the scouts dispersed, a glimmer of hope in the elder etug heart appeared , no 9ne can escape the eyes and nose in our hunting land
Soon, scouts returned, their faces etched with a mixture of confusion and urgency.
"We've found five sets of tracks," they reported, "each leading in a different direction."
Elder Etug, his heart pounding in his chest, surveyed the footprints, his brow furrowed in consternation.
The markings were fresh, each path a tantalizing trail that promised to lead them to their elusive quarry.
Yet, each path also held the potential for a cunning deception.
Zhang Han's escapeing plan had borne fruit.
At the cost of four hundred skeletal slaves, he had orchestrated a brilliant diversion
sending the slaves to create false trails that would lead their pursuers astray.
The web of deceit now lay at Elder Etug's feet, a labyrinth of footprints that threatened to swallow their hopes of capturing the students.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the village in a deepening gloom, Elder Etug stand8ng alone for some time was faced with a critical decision.
With every path promising the potential for success yet also harboring the specter of failure, he knew that the fate of their mission rested on his shoulders.
The night stretched before him, an abyss of uncertainty, as he weighed the risks and rewards of each path, the commander's ultimatum hanging over him like a sword ready to fall.
Elder Etug stood before the fifty blood barbarians, his face a mask of steely resolve.
The weight of their mission bore down on him like an immense burden, his mind racing as he formulated a plan that would determine their fate.
"Each group of ten blood barbarians will take five thousand units and pursue a different direction," he commanded, his voice resonating with authority. "Do not fight blindly"
" no matter the enemy you face. If you find them, send a messenger to me emeditaly you must relay the news with all haste. Now, go!"
Elder Etug's desperate gamble was a tenuous thread upon which their lives now hang.
With four possible paths to pursue and no certain knowledge of which held the key to their success
he could only hope that fate would favor him.
His orders echoed through the camp, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume them.
As the barbarian army of 20 thousand split into four groups, each marching resolutely toward their designated path
Elder Etug was left with a mere ten blood barbarians for protection.
The village they departed from was eerily silent, a solemn testament to the magnitude of their undertaking.
Despite the bold front he presented to his troops, Elder Etug's heart was heavy with doubt.
His plan, born of desperation, was a mere roll of the dice, their lives resting on the whims of chance.
With a bitter taste in his mouth, he acknowledged the harsh truth: if all four paths proved fruitless, he would accept his demise without resistance.
The fifth path, ominously empty, weighed heavily on his mind.
He knew that by leaving it unguarded, he was potentially forsaking their one true chance at success.
The possibility of failure loomed large, a specter that haunted his thoughts as he watched his soldiers fade into the distance, their fates uncertain.
As the night stretched on, Elder Etug's desperation grew.
Each passing moment was a lifetime; his mind was a tempest of anxiety and fear.
But, as the sun's first rays pierced the darkness, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon.
Against all odds, one of the groups had discovered the correct path; their shouts of triumph
echoing through the still morning air.
Elder Etug's heart surged with relief, his gamble finally paying off.
With renewed determination, he prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead, his soldiers' success a beacon of hope in a mission fraught with uncertainty.
Elation surged through Elder Etug as he hailed his soldiers, his voice ringing with newfound hope.
"You three, go after the other groups and order them to send their units to the north side,"
he commanded, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the chase. "The rest of you, come with me. We will catch the students!"
The news of their imminent success had spread like wildfire among the soldiers, their faces lit with fierce determination.
As they divided into groups, their movements were swift and purposeful, and their objective was now clear.
In the north, the air was thick with the sounds of battle.
Long Su's skeletal soldiers and militia stood their ground against the onslaught of ten bloody barbarians and their army of five thousand.
Arrows rained down upon them, a deadly storm that threatened to consume all in its path.
The clashing of steel and the cries of the wounded echoed through the trees, a grim symphony that spoke of the cost of war.
Amidst the chaos, Long Su and the students watched with bated breath, their faces etched with worry.
The ferocious battle before them was a stark reminder of the dangers they faced, and their hearts ached for their fallen allies.
"We cannot stay here," Long Su muttered, his eyes trained on the mayhem.
"We must find a way to escape before more blood is spilled."
Xie Jin, his face pale with fear, nodded in agreement.
"But how? The barbarians have us surrounded. We cannot hope to break through their lines without suffering heavy losses."
Long Su fell silent, his mind racing as he weighed their options.
He knew that the fate of his people rested on his shoulders, and he was determined to find a way to lead them to safety.
The bloody barbarians, their tactics a calculated dance of death, held back from the thick of the battle.
Instead, they directed their forces from afar, sending two of their own to lead the charge while the rest formed an impenetrable ring around Long Su's army.
Their menacing presence was a constant reminder of the peril that awaited anyone who dared to challenge their might.
Amidst the turmoil, Long Su's mind was a tempest of strategy and desperation.
His gaze darted right and left, searching for a glimmer of hope, an opening that might offer his people a chance at escape.
On the front lines, Zhang Han clashed with the two blood barbarians, his skill a beacon of defiance in the face of overwhelming odds.
Though he knew he could turn the tide of the battle, the price of victory would be a five-hour cooldown, a risk he could not afford to take unless their foes chose to join the fray en masse.
As the clamor of battle echoed around him, Long Su's gaze fell upon the students, their faces drawn with fear.
It was then that an idea began to take shape—a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.
"Do you have gold coins on you?" he asked, his voice cutting through the din.
The students, surprised by the question, nodded in unison.
Despite their lack of units, they had ensured that they carried some form of currency.
Long Su's eyes gleamed with newfound determination as he began to outline his plan, their gold coins a precious resource that might just hold the key to their salvation.
With every passing moment, the battle raged on, and the urgency of their predicament weighed heavily on them all.