“The duty of the old is not to die bravely…
It is to ensure the young live long enough to remember.”
– Ancient teaching of the Poison Tribe
That night…
Rain fell once again upon the Black Marsh.
Inside the Great Hall…
The village elders gathered in silence.
No children were allowed inside.
Even the guards stood outside the wooden doors.
Grandmother Wu placed the bronze coin upon the table.
The wolf seemed to stare back at them.
An elder finally spoke.
“I’ve traveled farther than anyone in this village.”
“I have never seen this symbol.”
Another shook his head.
“Neither have I.”
Silence returned.
At last…
The oldest hunter rose to his feet.
“It doesn’t matter who they are.”
“They found us.”
…
The room grew heavy.
For generations…
The Black Marsh had hidden the Poison Tribe from the outside world.
Now…
Its greatest protection had been broken.
…
“What do we do?” one elder asked.
“Run?”
“We’ve been running for generations!”
“If we run again…”
“Where will our children hide next?”
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
…
Grandmother Wu slowly stood.
“If war comes…”
“The children leave first.”
Several elders immediately objected.
“They’ll never survive alone!”
“They’re too young!”
She looked each of them in the eyes.
“Then we make sure they do.”
…
A map of the marsh was unrolled across the table.
Hidden caves.
Ancient tunnels.
Secret paths known only to the oldest scouts.
Places prepared by ancestors who had always believed that one day…
The Black Marsh might fall.
One by one…
The elders chose who would guide the children.
Who would remain to defend the village.
Who would destroy the hidden trails if the enemy advanced.
Every decision was made knowing one truth.
Some of them would never see another sunrise.
…
Outside…
Zhao Long sat quietly beneath the ancient cypress tree.
He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.
The doors finally opened.
The elders emerged.
Their faces revealed nothing.
But their eyes…
Their eyes carried a sadness Zhao Long had never seen before.
Grandmother Wu smiled when she noticed him.
“You should be asleep.”
Zhao Long looked at her.
“Are we leaving the Black Marsh?”
For a brief moment…
She froze.
Then she gently placed a hand on his head.
“This is your home.”
“As long as I breathe…”
“No one will take it from you.”
She smiled.
But Zhao Long noticed something.
For the first time in his life…
Grandmother Wu’s smile did not reach her eyes.
…
Far beyond the mountains…
Torches moved through the darkness.
One.
Then ten.
Then hundreds.
By dawn…
Thousands of armed men marched beneath banners no one in the Black Marsh had ever seen.
The hunt…
Had already begun.