Chapter 4: The Most Likely Terrible Infiltration
Fakir Antantos believed he was the most honored guest among the tribal leaders.
He sat by the fire, laughing loudly while devouring every piece of meat placed in front of him.
The barbarian warriors laughed along with him.
Of course, nobody had told Fakir the truth.
When the attack began, they planned to use him as a human shield in the front ranks.
Even if Fakir had known, he probably wouldn’t have objected. He wasn’t the type to make decisions or question orders. He simply did whatever he was told.
Meanwhile, Fukur wasn’t enjoying the feast at all.
He kept watching the warriors and studying the camp.
At the same time, he was constantly looking for a way to escape.
Something deep inside him kept saying that none of this would end well.
As the night grew darker, the camp became increasingly active.
Weapons were gathered.
Torches were lit.
The warriors quietly formed ranks and began marching toward the Village of Brave Resistance.
With every step, Fukur’s uneasiness grew stronger.
Before long, they reached the outskirts of the village.
The tribal chief raised his hand and gave the signal to attack.
The horn blower took a deep breath.
He raised the war horn to his lips.
Just as he was about to blow it…
Whoooosh!
An arrow sliced through the darkness.
THUNK!
The arrow pierced the horn.
Then it continued straight into the horn blower’s head.
The unfortunate warrior collapsed without saying a single word.
Instantly, chaos erupted.
Shouts filled the air as the warriors struggled to understand what had happened.
Fukur’s eyes lit up.
“This is the sign I’ve been waiting for!”
he shouted.
He grabbed Fakir by the arm and started running.
“What’s happening?”
“We’re escaping!”
“Why?”
“Because we’re still alive!”
A massive battle erupted behind them.
At that point, nobody could even tell who was chasing whom.
While the barbarians tried to catch the two runaways, the warriors of the Village of Brave Resistance charged directly into the attackers.
The battle didn’t last long.
Within minutes, its outcome was decided.
Meanwhile, Fukur and Fakir had already vanished deep into the forest.
Hours later, the two exhausted fools collapsed beside a giant rock.
Neither of them had the strength to stand.
Both were gasping for air.
Fakir finally spoke.
“Fukur…”
“What?”
“Are we really spies?”
Fukur thought for a few seconds.
“No.”
“Then what are we?”
“I have no idea.”
A brief silence followed.
Then Fukur pulled out the map he had stolen from the barbarian camp.
Several villages were marked on it.
But one settlement was drawn much larger than all the others.
Across the top was written:
“Village of the Great Chief”
Fukur’s eyes widened.
This was the home of one of the most powerful leaders in all of Gaul.
According to the notes on the map, the chief was gathering warriors from nearby tribes.
“This…”
said Fukur.
“This could actually be important.”
Fakir was holding the map upside down.
“I think it’s a bakery.”
Fukur took a deep breath.
The next morning, they set off once again.
After several days of travel, they finally arrived at the Village of the Great Chief.
Massive walls stood before them.
Busy markets filled the streets.
Hundreds of warriors moved throughout the settlement.
This time, they couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
Fukur turned to Fakir with a serious expression.
“Listen carefully.”
Fakir nodded.
“This time, I’m going in alone.”
“Why?”
“Because if I take you with me, we’ll be caught within five minutes.”
After thinking about it for a moment, Fakir reluctantly agreed.
“Fair enough.”
“You stay here.”
“Okay.”
“Watch the village.”
“Okay.”
“And no matter what happens…”
“Okay.”
“…don’t make any noise.”
“Okay.”
Fukur took a deep breath.
He changed into a villager’s clothes.
Then, with all the confidence of a master spy, he began walking toward the gate.
The first few steps went perfectly.
Everything seemed to be going according to plan.
Until a familiar voice echoed from behind him.
“FUKUUUURRRR!”
Fukur froze.
“FUKUUUURRRR! WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR SPY MISSION?!”
The guards at the gate immediately turned toward them.
Then they looked at each other.
Then back at the two idiots.
One guard slowly raised an eyebrow.
“Did he just say spy mission?”
Fukur slowly closed his eyes.
Fakir, meanwhile, was happily waving at him.
A few seconds later…
Two guards grabbed them both by the arms.
And marched them straight into the village.
Only one question remained in Fukur’s mind:
“Are they taking us to a prison…”
“…or directly to the Great Chief himself?”
To Be Continued…