Chapter 390: THE INTERCEPTION

The frozen canyon floor of the Viper’s Throat was barely three paces wide, squeezed tight between two sheer walls of black basalt that rose sixty paces into the night sky.

Icy mountain run-off had frozen across the bedrock in jagged sheets of black ice, making every step treacherous beneath the howling sub-zero wind.

Sagiri moved with silent, fluid grace along the eastern wall, his boots finding traction on the narrow gravel seams where the frost had not yet set.

The weight of the Living Memory burned in his chest, radiating a dull, steady warmth that kept the bitter cold from numbing his extremities.

Across his back, Nokai rested beneath its gray linen wraps, vibrating faintly in response to the necrotic trail hanging in the gorge.

The scent was stronger now. A thick, oily stench of chemical preservatives and stale biological fluids drifted up through the deep stone fissures ahead.

He was navigating the final natural bottleneck of the Viper’s Throat where the canyon opened toward the Bleeding Gorge, sensing from the rising stench and low ground vibrations that he was drawing close to the buried facility, even though the subterranean entrance remained completely hidden beneath the rock.

Suddenly, his ears twitched beneath his dark hood, catching a faint rhythm that did not belong to the groaning ice or the mountain gale.

It was the muffled sound of iron-shod soles striking wet stone, echoing through an abandoned drainage conduit forty paces up the cliff face.

Seven distinct heartbeats, pacing their breath in the strict three-count rhythm of Galka endurance runners, moving at a sustained sprint through the rock.

Sagiri’s eyes narrowed into sharp crimson slits as he pressed his back flat against a frozen crevice, slipping entirely into the deep shadows.

’Northern hunters,’ he thought, his right hand closing silently around the hilt of Nokai beneath his cloak.

The High Council had evidently deployed their elite trackers faster than anticipated, attempting to cut off his approach before he reached the lower canyon.

He slowed his breathing to a bare whisper, drawing upon the stealth techniques taught in the academy’s obstacle arenas to erase his physical presence.

Above him, an old iron grating at the mouth of an overflow flume gave way with a soft, controlled creak.

Two figures dropped through the opening into the gorge, landing on the gravel in low quad-pedal rolls that absorbed their falling momentum without a sound.

Two more followed immediately behind them, fanning out across the high ledges to secure the elevated firing positions.

Sagiri prepared to strike, channeling soul energy into the fuller of his blade to execute a non-lethal disarming sweep before they could box him in.

He sprang from the shadow of the crevice like a coiled viper, stepping into the center of the path with Nokai raised to strike.

A massive wall of cold-rolled iron slammed into the gravel directly in front of him with a deafening, familiar thud.

The heavy tower shield was stamped with the double-headed bear crest of the Asakana clan, its reinforced edges biting two inches into the frozen shale.

Behind the iron barrier stood a giant of a young man, his broad shoulders rising like a mountain against the starlight, his breath rising in thick white plumes.

Sagiri froze mid-stride, his blade halting an inch from the steel rim.

"You’re late, Sagiri," Kaka rumbled from behind the shield, his voice as flat and heavy as the granite cliffs around them.

Above on the western ledge, Bukata lowered a composite recurve bow, an un-nocked hunting arrow held loosely between his fingers.

Beside him, Zolinka was already looping thin steel tripwires around two jagged boulders to seal the rear approach against potential pursuers.

From the eastern shadows stepped Maita, twirling a pair of short-swords before sheathing them with a sharp, irritated click of his tongue.

Ulekai and Zazarie dropped down from the flume ledge, taking up guard positions at the southern bottleneck with heavy halberds drawn.

And stepping directly past Kaka’s shield was Kiuga, pulling down his dark wool face wrap to reveal a face covered in charcoal and sweat.

Sagiri stared at the seven warriors standing in the frozen ditch, his breath catching in his throat as the reality of what he was seeing struck him.

"What are you doing here?" Sagiri asked, his voice rough and laced with genuine shock.

"What does it look like we’re doing?" Maita scoffed, kicking a chunk of ice into the ravine, "We’ve been running through a foul-smelling sewer flume for four hours."

"You weren’t supposed to follow me," Sagiri said, his tone hardening as he stepped back toward the wall. "The North is on lockdown."

"If the High Council catches any of you outside the war college perimeter with combat gear, they will strip your sashes and execute you for treason."

"Let them try," Kaka grunted, not budging an inch from his planted stance.

"Seyika gave us your exact vector," Kiuga said, stepping forward until he was standing two paces from Sagiri. "he calculated your pace down to the minute."

Sagiri looked across their faces. Every single one of them was smeared with soot, their armor battered, their cloaks torn by sharp flume grates.

They had committed high treason against the Northern High Council, defied imperial martial law, and sprinted through subterranean tunnels just to stand in this frozen cut.

"You don’t know what is down in that gorge," Sagiri said quietly, his eyes dark with the heavy burden he carried. "This is not an academy field exam."

"I am hunting the shadow that orchestrated the destruction of my clan in the South."

"Whoever is inside that mountain has an army, and whoever goes down there might not come back up."

Kiuga did not flinch, his sharp tactical gaze locking directly into Sagiri’s glowing crimson eyes.

"We know you’re hunting someone for your clan, Sagiri," Kiuga spoke with quiet, unshakeable steel.

"We don’t need a name, and we don’t care how many soldiers they have buried down in that rock."

"You saved us in Boni Valley, we are merely returning the favour," Maita said, stepping up beside Kiuga.

"You showed up for every single one of us every time blood hit the floor," Kaka rumbled, his massive hand resting firmly on the rim of his tower shield.

"And now the entire northern army is combing the passes behind you, trying to put your head on a spike in Alika."

"Did you really think Squad 25 was going to sit in the barracks and eat warm porridge while you walked into a slaughterhouse alone?"

Sagiri’s fingers tightened on Nokai, a deep, overwhelming knot forming in his chest as he looked at his brothers-in-arms.

He had spent his whole life trying to keep the curse of the Living Memory from touching the people he loved.

He had run northwest through the snow so the flames of his vengeance would consume only him and the monsters who had butchered N’folu.

Yet here they were, standing knee-deep in the frozen mud of the Viper’s Throat, daring the world to tear them apart.

"You are all completely insane," Sagiri muttered, his voice thick with unvoiced emotion as he looked down at the snow.

"We learned from the best," Kiuga said, a faint, dangerous smirk touching his lips as he tightened the straps on his combat vest.

"Just don’t stand in my way," Sagiri said, looking away from the squad. They were like an itch he could not get rid of.

Sigh