Zoah had been gone far longer than expected, and with every passing minute, my uneasiness grew.
What was keeping him?
Had he failed to find a captive? Or worse... had he been caught?
No.
I immediately dismissed the thought. Zoah wasn't someone who could be captured easily. He was one of the strongest people I knew. But then again... these were cannibals. Strength was woven into their very existence.
One cannibal wouldn't stand a chance against Zoah.
But a group?
A cold shiver crawled down my spine.
What if he had targeted several of them at once?
That would be a disaster.
The odds of surviving such a fight were almost nonexistent.
Still... Zoah wasn't reckless.
He was fearless, yes, but never foolish. He knew better than to throw himself into a crowd. Yet I couldn't completely silence the fear gnawing at me. Herb D was too important. Desperation had a way of clouding even the sharpest judgment.
If Zoah had been captured, it wouldn't take long before the rest of us were found.
He would never betray us.
I knew that.
But torture had a way of forcing secrets from even the strongest souls.
And if an army of cannibals came searching...
Our hiding place wouldn't remain hidden for long.
No...
No, that couldn't happen.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm.
Natasha remained unusually quiet beside me. She wasn't the type to stay silent unless something was seriously wrong. Judging by the tension in her face, she was just as worried as I was.
The forest grew deathly still.
Then...
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Zoah.
A wave of relief washed over me before my eyes shifted to the man walking beside him.
Or rather...
Being forced to walk.
The captive's face was unnaturally pale, but there was nothing weak about him. Even with his hands restrained, danger radiated from him like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His muscles were tense, his jaw locked, and his eyes burned with barely restrained fury.
He hadn't surrendered willingly.
Not even close.
Judging by the bruises scattered across his body and the murderous glare fixed on Zoah, he had fought with everything he had before finally being overpowered.
The defeat must have shattered his pride.
Zoah had a habit of doing that to his opponents.
I remembered the Water God's expression after losing the Herb B competition.
This man wore that same look.
"You really know how to make an entrance," Natasha said with a relieved smile.
"Another minute and I would've assumed you were dead."
Zoah chuckled.
"I think it's time for an interrogation."
A chill crept down my back.
"You know..." I muttered, staring at the captive, "this is officially the creepiest part of everything we've done so far."
Natasha rolled her eyes.
"Excuse me? That's my line, you psycho."
I smirked.
"I said it first."
"Oh, wonderful." She folded her arms. "Now you've added plagiarism to your growing list of crimes."
"I didn't copy you."
"You absolutely did."
"When?"
"Back during Herb C."
I blinked.
"This is Herb D."
"So? A stolen line is still a stolen line."
"I don't remember signing a contract saying you owned those words."
"They're my intellectual property."
"Last time I checked, words were free. Isn't that somewhere in basic human rights?"
She let out an exaggerated scoff.
"Keep telling yourself that. One day you'll copy an author's work without permission and end up in prison."
I shrugged.
"Good thing you haven't written a book with those words."
Our eyes met.
Anyone watching us would have thought a war was about to break out.
Zoah pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You two are unbelievable," he muttered. "We're standing in enemy territory after kidnapping one of their people, and somehow you're arguing over who owns a sentence."
Natasha pointed accusingly at me.
"She started it."
Zoah sighed heavily.
"Prison shouldn't be the thing you're worried about right now."
His expression hardened as he glanced toward the dark forest surrounding us.
"The moment they realize one of their own is missing, they'll start searching."
Silence swallowed us.
The reality of our situation settled like a weight on our shoulders.
Zoah looked from me to Natasha before shaking his head.
"This..." he said quietly, "...is not how people behave after kidnapping someone."
The captive remained silent throughout our exchange, but his cold eyes never left us.
He wasn't defeated.
He was waiting.
And somehow...
That was even more terrifying than if he had struggled.
"You can't blame us," Natasha said with an awkward shrug. "We've never kidnapped anyone before."
"She's right," I added. "This is our first time."
Zoah ignored us completely.
His cold gaze remained fixed on the man bound before him.
"Do you know of a herb called Herb D?" he asked.
While he waited for an answer, I finally studied our captive properly.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dark-skinned, looking a few years older than Zoah. His body was a map of survival, hard muscles, faded scars, and weathered skin that spoke of countless battles against both man and nature. He didn't look like someone who merely lived.
He looked like someone who had refused to die.
How had these people survived in a place like this?
Why were they here?
Were they fugitives?
Murderers? Exiles? What kind of crime drove an entire community into this nightmare?
Question after question flooded my mind, each darker than the last. Yet I knew none of them would ever be answered.
We weren't here to uncover their history.
If everything went according to plan, we'd interrogate this man, learn the location of Herb D, steal it, and disappear before anyone realized we had been here.
Simple.
...Or at least, that was what we kept telling ourselves.
But the more I thought about it, the less simple it sounded.
None of us was a thief.
Zoah was powerful, yes, but even for him this had to be a first. Do gods spend eternity sneaking around and stealing?
"Can he even speak English?" Natasha asked quietly.
"Of course I can."
The answer came instantly.
Natasha blinked.
"Good. Then save us the trouble and tell us where Herb D is."
I frowned.
"Assuming he even knows what Herb D is."
The captive slowly turned his eyes toward me.
"I know exactly what it is... you idiot."
I winced.
"Ouch... that one landed."
Natasha looked at me with mock sympathy.
"Was that even an insult? I thought he was just stating a fact."
I glared at her.
"A fact? Seriously? I'm not an idiot!"
"What is wrong with you two?" Zoah snapped. "Must you argue in front of our hostage?"
"She started it," I protested.
"That's a lie," Natasha shot back. "You started it."
I pointed an accusing finger at her.
"Now you're calling me a liar?"
She opened her mouth to argue again...
But a low, chilling laugh echoed through the cave.
It came from our prisoner.
The sound crawled beneath my skin.
It wasn't the laugh of a frightened man.
It was the laugh of someone watching children wander into their own graves.
"Interesting," he said between chuckles. "There's no unity among you. Tell me... how exactly do you expect to succeed in whatever madness you've planned?"
"You know nothing about us," Natasha fired back. "We've survived far deadlier missions than this. We've been through worse together."
"Then prove it," he replied calmly.
"Just tell us where Herb D is," I said impatiently.
"And what happens after I tell you?"
"We sneak in, steal it, and leave," Natasha answered without hesitation.
For a heartbeat, silence hung in the air.
Then he laughed again.
Louder this time.
Longer.
The sound bounced off the cave walls until it felt as though invisible voices were laughing with him.
"He's creepy," Natasha whispered.
"And strange," I muttered.
"I'm starting to think he finds this whole situation amusing."
"Amusing?" The captive grinned.
"No... it's hilarious."
"You truly believe you can walk into our home, steal from us, and simply walk away? Do you think we're fools?"
His laughter returned, colder than before.
I felt irritation bubbling inside me.
"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. "We'll move quietly. No one will know we were here. You'll stay tied up until we're long gone."
Zoah folded his arms.
"You won't be escaping either. Those ropes are infused with power. Breaking free isn't an option."
The man's smile never faded.
"You think you're the first strangers to hide among us?" he asked softly.
His voice had changed.
It was quieter now...
More dangerous.
"Others came before you."
"They hid."
"They whispered."
"They made plans."
"One of them even hid in this very spot."
His eyes slowly swept across the cave.
"He was found."
A pause.
"He was killed."
Silence swallowed the room.
No one spoke.
No one even breathed.
For the first time since we'd arrived, the confidence that had carried us this far began to crack.
Were we really going to pull this off?
Or had we already stepped into a trap that none of us would survive?