The night wind swept through the steep hills and the silent valleys of Sinear, a cold and desolate region entirely controlled by the Balevad tribe. Hidden beneath the dense forest and brush, the Migase forces finally reached the edge of the enemy encampment after a long and grueling journey.
Rogg stood at the front. His gaze pierced through the darkness, and his voice was low but steady.
"Be careful. Don't act rashly. We're on enemy land," he said. "If you face an obstacle you can't overcome, retreat. Your lives are worth more than a victory bathed in death."
Some of the younger soldiers nodded; others gripped their weapons tighter. Yara approached from the right flank.
"All units ready," she reported.
Rogg turned to her. "We move quickly. No noise, no mistakes."
The Migase troops moved silently across the boundary of the Balevad camp. But what they found slowed their steps. The tents were still up, the campfires still burning, and the guard animal pens remained intact… but not a single soldier in sight.
Yara whispered urgently, "This is strange. Their tracks are fresh. They left just recently."
Rogg clenched his fists. "They didn't just disappear."
Moments later, scouts from the eastern hill signaled using light reflections. Yara read the pattern.
"They're heading west," she said. "Toward the dock at the end of the valley. Five kilometers from here. They're heading for the sea."
"The dock?" Rogg muttered. "They're escaping."
Without hesitation, Rogg issued his order.
"Burn it all. Free the animals. Take what's useful. Let the rest turn to ash."
Soon, flames spread. Several soldiers opened the cages of Balevad's lions and wolves. The beasts roared in fear and fury before fleeing into the forest.
Yara's squad gathered supply sacks, spare weapons, and leftover route maps.
Without delay, Rogg led his troops across the terrain toward the dock. Muddy paths and tangled roots didn't slow them. But by the time they arrived, Balevad's main ship had already departed, leaving behind a small camp and a few guards who hadn't boarded.
Rogg wasted no time.
"Charge!" he shouted.
The Migase forces stormed the area. The surprise attack left the Balevad guards unable to mount a defense. In minutes, the camp fell. Some enemies surrendered; others fled into the woods.
Among the prisoners, Rogg found a young Balevad officer with a wounded arm.
"Where did your ship go?" Rogg asked coldly, his eyes locked on the man's.
The officer panted, head bowed. "We… we split up. One ship carried Prince Billok back to Skull Island. He's severely injured… lost his hand. The other… went to Blacksand."
Rogg stood still for a moment. "So he's still alive?"
"Yes," the officer replied bitterly. "But… he's furious. We couldn't stop him."
Yara stepped closer and whispered, "We should've made sure he died back then."
Rogg gave a slow nod. "Now we know where they're headed."
He turned again to the prisoner.
"You said one ship went to Blacksand. Why?"
"To deliver slaves. A lot of them. Taken from valleys and forests outside Migase territory. To be sold."
The Migase warriors stiffened at the news.
Pragyan, standing to the right, stepped forward. "Bastards," he muttered. "Some of our families might be among them."
Rogg looked out to sea. The morning sun began to rise over the horizon, casting light over the scorched, ruined dock.
"We'll go after that ship," he said.
Yara frowned. "We're half a day behind. The tide's rising."
"Pragyan," said Rogg. "You know these waters better than anyone here. Can we catch them?"
Pragyan nodded. "If we cut through the southern route via Hiradu Bay, we can intercept. But we'll need fast ships. Sailboats."
Rogg looked at the remains of small vessels at the dock. "Clear these out. Load what we need. We set out in two hours."
One of the older soldiers called out, "This will be dangerous!"
Rogg met his eyes. "It's more dangerous to let them sell our people like livestock."
No one objected. The Migase soldiers got to work immediately.
Meanwhile, far to the west aboard the great ship bound for Blacksand, the captives huddled tightly beneath the deck. Among them, a small girl from the inland tribes quietly wept. Her mother, hands bound, tried to comfort her though her own face was streaked with tears.
"Shhh… it's okay, my dear," she whispered. "Someone will come to save us."
The sky above the sea glowed orange. And far off in the distance, waves churned with the promise of hope—because Rogg and his soldiers would not stop… until every captive was free.
Rogg stood at the broken edge of the dock, eyes fixed on the now-stilled sea. After assessing the situation, he made a decision: the force must be split.
"Listen carefully!" he called out loudly to his troops. "Not everyone can join this pursuit. Only those physically strong and able to row fast will come with me."
Several soldiers stepped forward, still bloodied and bruised, but their eyes burned with fierce resolve.
"The rest of you," Rogg continued, "return to the Migase Valley and stay alert. The journey will be hard. Come back alive. I don't want anyone dying for nothing."
Yara looked at him with unreadable eyes. She stepped closer once the troops began to move.
"So you're really going?" she asked quietly.
"I have to," Rogg replied. "Those captives are our people. I won't let them be treated like animals."
"I know," Yara murmured, then took a breath. "Then I'll lead the others back to the valley."
Rogg closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. But before he could turn away, Yara raised her hand and gently touched her slightly swollen belly.
"There's something else you need to know, Rogg…"
"What is it?"
"I'm pregnant."
Rogg froze. For a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.
"You… you're pregnant?" he choked out.
Yara gave a small nod. "Three months. I wanted to tell you sooner… but you were always chasing war, chasing courage and the will to survive."
Without hesitation, Rogg pulled Yara into his arms. He kissed the forehead of the woman who had always stood by his side—steadfast and unwavering.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he whispered.
"I was afraid," she replied. "Afraid it would make you hesitate to fight. But now… I just want you to know there's another reason for you to come back alive."
Rogg looked into her eyes, then reached beneath his tunic and took out a small necklace, placing it around her neck.
"Hold on to this. It belonged to my father. He said it always brought him home."
Then, he handed her a short sword—a Heraxes blade forged from Lovarian steel.
"And this… just in case. Only use it if you absolutely must."
Yara gripped the sword tightly. "You must come back, Rogg. Don't let this child grow up without knowing who their father is."
Rogg gave her a faint smile. "I will come back, Yara. For you… and for our child."
With full speed, Rogg and his chosen warriors set sail aboard a small vessel, with Pragyan at the helm.
"We're half a day behind," muttered Pragyan as he watched the wind's direction. "But their ship is heavy and relies on sails. We can catch them through the southern channel."
"Then do it," said Rogg. "Use every ounce of strength you have."
Days passed. For nearly a week, they braved treacherous sea routes, relying on oars and nighttime currents to gain speed. Sweat, wounds, and fatigue became their daily companions.
Finally, at the break of the sixth dawn, the silhouette of the Balevad's great ship appeared on the horizon.
"Close in quietly," Rogg whispered.
As night fell, the Migase vessel drew near under the cover of darkness. Rogg dove into the sea, approaching the enemy ship from the side. He moved swiftly and silently, taking out the guards one by one without making a sound—until only Barugu, the ship's commander, remained.
On the deck, a fierce battle erupted.
Barugu swung his axe. "You… the leader of Migase!" he roared.
Rogg didn't respond. He dodged, then struck Barugu in the chest, sending the large man sprawling. In an instant, Rogg pinned him down, twisting his arm until the weapon fell.
"That's enough!" Rogg growled. "Let the captives go."
Barugu winced. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
Rogg leaned in, stabbing his dagger into the deck just beside Barugu's head. "And you have no idea who I'm fighting for."
The Migase forces quickly secured the ship. The captives were freed one by one. Cries, laughter, and confusion filled the deck.
But a new problem emerged.
"Rogg," Pragyan reported, "they're from many different tribes. Most don't understand our language. Some are panicking… even trying to fight."
Rogg approached an old woman who stared at him warily. He handed her a cup of water and a piece of bread.
"We are not your enemies. You are free now," Rogg said gently.
The woman bowed her head, tears falling silently.
Due to the communication barrier, Rogg decided to bring them to a safe beach. There, he grouped them by tribe and region.
"You are free to choose. Return to your homes… or come with us to Migase. But wherever you go, know this—you are no longer slaves."
Some left. Some stayed.
A small boy tugged at Rogg's cloak. "Sir… I have no one."
Rogg knelt down to meet his gaze. "What's your name?"
"Lian."
"From this day forward, Lian… you're one of us."
The boy gave a small smile. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel alone.
As night fell and campfires flickered along the shore, Rogg gazed at the stars above. Beyond the scattered constellations, his thoughts drifted—to the Migase Valley, to Yara… and to the child now growing in his wife's womb.
"I'll come home," he whispered.
And the night wind sweeping across the sea seemed to answer, carrying with it a new hope rising from the waves of struggle.