Chapter 193: The Weight of Ashes

By the following morning, not a single person in the Mountain Fortress had slept. Thick smoke hovered over the ruins, mingling with the stench of burnt timber, charred flesh, and dried blood. The night had been a struggle of frantic sprints and relentless toil. They had saved every life possible mid-inferno, yet the final toll of the invasion was crushing.

Over two hundred inhabitants—men, women, and children—had lost their lives. The vast majority hadn’t fallen to the jaws of the steel centipedes, but were trapped within the flames of the residential district, caught off guard by the firebirds’ inferno without time to escape.

In the center of the main courtyard, upon dirt caked with soot and mud, Tari knelt. Her hands were blackened, her clothes torn, and her face carved with tracks where tears had washed through the grime.

Around her, the soldiers maintained silence as recovered bodies were laid out in long rows upon blankets.

"It was my fault..." Tari pleaded, her voice trembling as she kept her forehead pressed against the ground. "Great Shaman... it was my order... I commanded everyone to stay inside their homes to protect them from crossfire... I wanted to prevent panic in the streets... but my decision cost them their lives."

Helga, Lennis, and Vael watched the scene with grim expressions. Tari’s directive, intended to preserve discipline and prevent civilians from obstructing the riflemen along the walls, had turned into a trap when the fire creatures ignited the wooden roofs.

Kellar walked over slowly until he stood directly before her. His face reflected the exhaustion of battle and gravity as he looked down at the woman who had taken charge of the settlement when Helga left to assist in the eagle hunt. Tari had done everything within her power to maintain order amid the chaos, but the beasts had proven more powerful than anyone had anticipated.

Kellar leaned down slightly, looking her straight in the eyes with resolve.

"I know how to recognize betrayal and I know how to recognize mistakes," Kellar said, his voice measured. "Only the Bear God makes no errors, but we are mortal and can make them since we cannot see the complete picture. This was not your fault. The fact that the entire settlement did not burn to the ground means everyone did a great job. Boran, Tari, Vael... the three of you did a wonderful job. I will make sure to reward you according to your contributions."

Tari raised her head, her lips trembling, as the Shaman’s words echoed among the survivors gathered in the courtyard, lifting the weight of guilt off the leaders.

Kellar stepped forward and climbed onto a stone block in the courtyard, raising his voice so it echoed above the smoke.

"Hear me, everyone!" Kellar proclaimed, sweeping his gaze across every soldier, miner, and wounded civilian. "Material losses are just that: wood, stone, and ash! As long as we draw breath and stand united, we will rebuild this fortress ten times stronger. Houses can be built again, but the will of our tribe is indestructible!"

The people raised their heads, hanging on every word from the Shaman.

"Our brothers, women, and children who fell last night will not be forgotten," Kellar continued, gesturing toward the rows of the fallen with respect. "Their names will be carved into stone and their deaths will not be in vain. Their lives are the reason we will strengthen our defenses, our weapons, and our bodies. We will learn from this battle, and I swear before the Bear God that we will never allow this tragedy to repeat itself!"

Kellar made a gesture for the leaders to follow him. Leaving behind the courtyard and the smoke drifting from the ruins, they walked in silence past the fortress perimeter, ascending a nearby hill that provided a view over the desolate gray expanse of Ash Valley.

"Must we abandon this outpost, Great Shaman?" Helga asked, breaking the silence as she adjusted her leather cloak.

"No, Great Shaman!" Grok cut in, clenching his fists. "Let’s prepare an expedition. We beat them here; we can go hunt them down and exterminate them in their burrows."

"It’s risky," Brak muttered, staring out over the horizon, "but I agree with Grok. A direct strike would be timely before they can reorganize."

Kellar let out a sigh, keeping his eyes fixed on the distant peaks, and turned his head toward the master craftsman.

"Lennis... do you know what the real mistake was?" Kellar asked in a calm voice. "Despite everything we built and how confident we felt... do you know where we failed?"

Lennis, the master craftsman, stepped forward, keeping his gaze steady despite the presence of the veteran warriors around him.

"Yes, Great Shaman..." Lennis replied in a grave tone. "The weapons. The rounded lead and steel bullets can pierce hide and flesh, but they cannot penetrate those armored carapaces. We lost from the start against them; we grew blind in our arrogance."

"How dare you call the...!" Grok roared, stepping toward Lennis with bloodshot eyes.

Before he could finish his sentence, Kellar raised his hand, cutting Grok off.

"He is right," Kellar declared, lowering his hand slowly. "All of this happened because I became blind through our victories. We wiped out the crocodiles easily, the eagles didn’t stand a chance, and even the Black Skull tribe couldn’t hold out against us. That made me convince myself that we were invincible... when in reality we are only slightly stronger than the rest."

Kellar closed his eyes, bowed his head, and let the wind lash against his face.

"Order the retreat," Kellar declared in a firm voice. "We will return to the main tribe. We have enough metal to build the weapons required. We will leave only a small garrison here to protect this place from intruders, but one capable of falling back in time if a new wave arrives. We must prepare better for the next battle."

"Great Shaman, reconsider!" Grok pleaded, stepping forward with a distraught look on his face. "If we abandon the Mountain Fortress now, it will look like we’re running away with our tails between our legs. My men can hold the line!"

"Grok is right," Brak supported, crossing his arms over his chest. "It’s a heavy blow to the warriors’ morale. If we fall back right after a victory, we’ll lose the momentum we’ve built for months. Leave us a larger force and we will fortify the pass."

"You are speaking out of pride, not reason," Helga cut in, staring down both commanders. "The Great Shaman is making the right call. If that horde returns tomorrow with more of those fire creatures, we won’t have homes to defend or walls left standing. Staying here without the proper weapons is suicide."

"I agree with Helga," Lennis added, tightening his tool belt. "I need to get all the metallic carapaces back to the central forges. I cannot redesign the ammunition or smelt the new alloys in a ruined fortress without proper workshops. A strategic retreat is our only sensible option."

Kellar opened his eyes and glanced toward the gray horizon one last time before turning around.

"The decision is made," Kellar concluded. "Pack the gear and load as much metallic scrap as we can carry. We are going home."