'What have I done?'
Freya kneeled, blood pouring from her mouth as she gripped the sword. It was the only thing that brought her comfort in this dark time.
Smoke rose into the sky, carrying with it the smell of burning and blood that lingered in the air. Cries of suffering and pain mixed with the murmurs of ignorant children and the barks of angry dogs. Freya could feel all of it, and it was torture to her senses.
"Freya... We need to retreat..." Jacob's voice sounded, his face reflecting anger and helplessness as he held the bow, channeling all his energy into seeking vengeance against those responsible for their suffering.
"Retreat?" Freya whispered, her voice tinged with uncertainty. She pressed on, her words fraught with worry. "And what then? Where do we flee? Will we even survive? This is all my doing!"
Just a month ago, their lives seemed to be improving as they finally had their leader, a chieftain, who could guide their tribe. At first, Freya had been doubtful, but when she heard his words, she knew he was right. He was the chosen one for their tribe.
Then, she was shocked and happy when she found out that the Chieftain had the power to strengthen her and her people. Freya was overflowing with joy, much like Draven and Grimlock, but she held herself back. As her grandfather had said, the Chieftain differed from them, and he must have held a grudge toward her "challenge." So, she restrained herself and never said anything, only following his commands.
Even though she sometimes wanted to express her opinions, Freya was afraid that she might say something wrong that the Chieftain would not like. Until the moment they found the labyrinth, she was depressed, wondering why the Chieftain left her behind, even though he knew she was the strongest hunter in the tribe.
She thought that he still held a grudge against her. She planned to apologize after they explored the labyrinth, but days passed without progress. As a month went by, she and the others grew anxious. So they decided to disobey the Chieftain's orders and entered the labyrinth. However, they encountered annoying goblins. Freya massacred all of them with the help of her tribe, but the others retreated, crying.
They were once again anxious and helpless as they couldn't open the labyrinth gate. Her grandfather explained that the labyrinth could only be opened if the Labyrinth Lord allowed it, or if someone killed the former.
However, barbarians from other tribes began harassing them. Sometimes they would attack at night, and during the day they would destroy their homes, leaving them exhausted and powerless as the enemy tribe ravaged their home.
Countless people were killed, and blood flowed like a river. Freya didn't know how the Chieftain would react if he saw this. Would he be angry? Blame her? Or feel nothing at all? With her grandfather already dead, the weight of the world now pressed on her shoulders. Was this her fate?
Freya wrestled with the question: Was this her fault, or the Chieftains?
"It's not your fault," Wulfgar rasped, his form prone on the ground, his limbs severed, his faithful dogs tending to him with licks of solace.
"Nor the chieftain. It is simply the weave of our fate; death's embrace reaches for us all. None can elude destiny's grasp, not even the chieftain. But, Freya, to blame oneself is to reveal vulnerability to our foes. Your survival signifies that your hour has not yet arrived. Seek out the chieftain, and if you find him, flee alongside him. As long as the chieftain endures, so too shall our tribe and our legacy. Remember, Freya, you are to be the chieftain's sword and the tribe's shield, for you are... Freya."
Wulfgar smiled for the first time in his life as he closed his eyes. Sometimes, he wished to see the tribe prosper, but he knew he was already getting old.
"Wulfgar..." Freya's tears flowed from her eyes before she wiped them away and stood up. "Let's go."
Jacob nodded as they followed her, glancing at the destroyed home he once had. He sighed, putting the bow on his back as they disappeared into the shadows of the forest.
...
"My lord, there are only a few survivors, but the other two have retreated. Do we need to follow them?" A burly man knelt before the middle-aged man sitting on the throne. If someone from Wang Jun's tribe were to see this, they would recognize it as the throne of their chieftain.
"No need," the middle-aged man replied, smiling.
"May I know why, my lord? These two were the stronger hunters of the tribe. If we leave them, they might retaliate."
The burly man's name was Rock; he was once the leader of the Rock Barbarian Tribe. However, when the middle-aged man appeared, he quickly relinquished his position, knowing that the true lord had arrived. Though the new lord was different, Rock could feel that he was the same as them. Despite not understanding how it worked, he didn't question it, as they now had a leader who would lead them to prosperity.
"The outcome aligns with my intentions. But don't concern yourself with it," the middle-aged man said calmly, his voice carrying an air of assurance as if everything were under his control. "Once you've gathered all the resources, release the captives."
Rock was confused. "Why?"
The middle-aged man fell into silence, his gaze fixed into the distance where the labyrinth lay. "I'm planting a tree," he murmured, his voice carrying a weight of determination. "When this tree grows, it will be time to harvest the fruit. And the tree will only die when we chop it down to build our foundation."
Rock, though not understanding the full significance of his lord's words, nodded in acknowledgment and left to carry out his orders.
The middle-aged man stood from the throne. He looked left and right, and seeing no one around, he sighed in relief and wiped the bid of sweat on his forehead.
"That was close. My performance must have been convincing. Let's get out of here before they start asking more questions."
...
(Short chapter for now....)