Chapter 276: Plot to Kill

Days began to pass while Max remained locked inside the cage. The golden medicine had closed his wounds, and the pain that once accompanied every movement gradually faded, yet his magic still refused to answer. He could feel it within him, intact and close enough to reach for, but every attempt ended with the same frustrating silence. Even his bloodline remained beyond his control, leaving him unable to summon so much as a single scale upon his skin.

He had expected to break out the following morning. Instead, an entire week had passed, and he was still suspended above the ground, gripping wooden bars he had imagined tearing apart with ease.

At first, he tested them whenever the women below turned their attention elsewhere. He searched for loose joints, pressed his weight against the door, and worked his fingers into the narrow spaces around its fastening. His efforts left splinters beneath his nails and fresh scrapes across his palms, but the cage held. Eventually, he learned to stop before the creaking drew anyone’s attention.

The waiting gnawed at him more painfully than his injuries ever had. He had no way of knowing whether his women had found shelter, whether the enemy was still pursuing them, or whether anyone remained alive to search for him. Every morning brought another day he could never recover, and by nightfall, he found himself staring into the distance long after the land below had disappeared into darkness.

He called upon the system as well, first with demands, then questions, and finally curses spoken quietly enough that those beneath him could not hear. No window appeared. The Creator had been eager to speak when she wanted obedience, but now she left him alone with the consequences of her decision.

His isolation did, however, give him time to observe the tribe.

From above, Max began to recognize the paths between the clay houses and the places where the women gathered throughout the day. He watched them carry water, prepare food, mend clothing, and practice with weapons while younger girls lingered nearby, sometimes copying their movements with sticks. Their lives continued beneath his cage while his own seemed to have stopped.

He also watched how they behaved around one another. Conversations quieted when Antiope approached, though some women eagerly moved to join her. Others spoke freely with Myrina but lowered their eyes around her sister, and Max began remembering which faces belonged to each group.

By the end of the week, he could recognize several regular visitors by their footsteps before they passed beneath him. He knew when the paths grew crowded, when training stopped, and when the heat drove most of the tribe into the shade. None of it had offered him a way out yet, but he continued watching.

“Is it true?”

A soft voice rose from below his cage in the middle of the night. Max had been lying awake, staring between the bars, but he closed his eyes when footsteps stopped beneath him.

“Quiet,” another woman answered.

He recognized Antiope immediately. For several moments, neither spoke, and Max kept his breathing slow and even until their footsteps moved away.

They stopped near a house a short distance from his cage. With the village quiet and most of its people asleep, their voices still carried through the night, though he had to shift carefully toward the bars to hear them.

“Is the Tigerclaw tribe truly challenging us for our place in the forest?”

Max did not recognize the woman asking. He could barely make out the two figures beyond the faint light spilling from a nearby doorway, but the question held his attention.

“Indeed. Those scummy men are determined to get their hands on our people. For centuries, our tribe fought them and came out on top, cutting down their numbers until they had no choice but to hide. But now… now things are different.”

Antiope spoke more quietly than Max had ever heard her speak before. The contempt remained, but her hesitation made him listen more closely.

“But do not fret,” she continued. “We are warriors. We can hold our ground and defeat them again. Every man who sets foot in these lands will become a corpse beneath my feet, including the one already here.”

Max held back the insult that nearly escaped him. A faint smirk touched his lips as he imagined her expression if the battle turned against her, but answering would only bring the conversation to an end.

He would wait and judge for himself how formidable this bear of a woman truly was. Part of him hoped she would survive long enough for him to put his own blade against her throat, though his unresponsive mana made that thought more frustrating than satisfying.

“How long do we have?” the other woman asked. “Should I begin preparing the warriors?”

“No. Do not stir them yet. First, I must deal with my sister.”

Max’s amusement faded.

“I already know she will interfere and try to find some peaceful way out of this,” Antiope continued. “Half the women will listen to her, and I will have to fight my own tribe over every order before we even face the enemy.”

“But Myrina—”

“Will follow our mother’s example until it gets us all killed.” Antiope gave a quiet, scornful laugh. “That fool is better off dying by my hands than being torn apart by the beasts of this world. Help me take care of her, and you will become my commander. And perhaps…”

Her voice dropped too low for Max to catch the rest. He strained to listen, careful not to shift his weight again, but whatever she whispered drew a giggle from her companion, followed by a softer laugh from Antiope herself.

“Of course, my chieftain.”

He glanced toward the fastening on his cage. Myrina was one of the few people willing to stand between him and Antiope, and she had already risked her sister’s anger to keep him alive. If she disappeared before the Tigerclaw tribe arrived, his own death could follow without anyone strong enough to intervene.

Below, the women began moving again. Max withdrew from the bars and lowered his head, keeping his eyes almost closed as their footsteps drew nearer.

He needed to speak to Myrina before Antiope acted, but calling out now would reveal everything he had heard. He lay still until the footsteps faded, listening for any sign that one of them had remained behind.