Arcane: The Gods Want Me to Pick a Route-Chapter 156: A Hungry Girl—A Storm Is Coming to Fatebound Village (EC)

Chapter 156: Chapter 156: A Hungry Girl—A Storm Is Coming to Fatebound Village (EC)

Night fell, and a group of people sprinted along a forest path—though calling it a "forest path" was generous. There were barely any trees left on either side. Noxus had been hauling supplies and building camps, so they’d chopped down huge swaths of the local woods and wrecked the environment.

That was why, on the gray-brown mud road, this bunch of night travelers dressed head-to-toe in black had no cover at all. Marching down an open road like that while pretending to be stealthy was about as useful as whispering through a megaphone.

"A team of our brothers hit Timberrise Village—killed thirteen Noxians there, and brought seven new brothers into the Brotherhood," someone said. "All of you, we need to pull our weight too. According to the list, Roar Town is up ahead... though it seems it’s called Bondweave Village now?"

"The list says there’s a casino run by Noxians there. Bondweave Village borders the Noxian residential area—calling it ’living together with Noxians’ wouldn’t even be an exaggeration. So the situation there is worse than Timberrise Village. Everyone, they’re traitors now."

Another person spoke up. "Then shouldn’t we just burn Bondweave Village to the ground?"

"Dream on. We’ve got what, a handful of people? Bondweave Village has that many residents. We’d hack until our blades went dull and still wouldn’t finish. And we’re going there to recruit new members," someone else said, rolling his eyes.

Listening to them, a young member who’d only just joined the Brotherhood looked confused. "Wait—aren’t we trying to restore Ionia? Why are we going after our own people?"

"We are restoring Ionia," the leader said, voice low. "But those people aren’t our comrades anymore. They live alongside the Noxians who murdered our families. That makes them traitors. Understand? The violence is just to wake them up."

The young Brotherhood member still felt it was wrong, but when he met the leader’s eyes, he swallowed his words and chose silence.

They ran hard all night. By morning, they finally stopped to recover.

Bondweave Village was close now. They needed to get themselves ready—so they’d have the energy to assassinate Noxians.

In an abandoned village, they picked a house that was still in decent shape. Once inside, they pulled out the food they’d been carrying.

They sat in a circle and laid everything out.

Jerky and vegetables and fruit came out of their packs and were placed on wax paper spread over the floor.

"Grrr—"

A strange sound.

The squad leader heard it and snapped to full alert. He sprang up, scanning the room, and barked, "Who’s there?! Get out here!"

The rest drew weapons immediately—silver-glinting daggers appeared in their hands. They formed up back-to-back. These Brotherhood members had fought in the Noxian–Ionian War, and their discipline showed.

Then a weak voice drifted down from the ceiling beams.

"Got anything to eat?"

The leader looked up.

Someone was lying across a roof beam, draped over it like she’d been there the whole time. Her arms hung down. A green mask covered part of her face. Her black hair was a mess of spiky strands, like a hedgehog’s. Her eyes—reddish-brown—watched them steadily. On her right arm was a large tattoo pattern.

"Relax," she said weakly. "I got here before you. I haven’t eaten in four days. Do you have food?"

"Who are you?" someone demanded.

"Me?" She sounded even weaker. "Just someone who’s starving."

"...Say your name," the squad leader said, his voice heavy.

She sighed. "Why do you need my name? Honestly, I know who you are. The ones with tiger tattoos—you’re Brotherhood, right?" As she spoke, she shifted her position on the beam.

She sat up and pressed a hand to her stomach. The beam was barely as wide as a man’s foot, but she perched on it perfectly steady. Only then did they notice how strange her clothes were.

Up top, she wore a black-and-green piece of clothing that left her midriff bare—her abdominal muscles sharply defined. Across her back was a tattoo motif that looked like a dragon intertwined with a snake. Around her waist, a knotted cord served as a belt, and her pants were an odd cut, nothing like what locals wore.

Holding her stomach, she said, "Kennen said it already. You people talk big in public—’restore Ionia,’ ’resist Noxus’—but what you actually do is dragoon people. You go village to village, grabbing bodies, and if anyone resists, you get rough."

She sounded genuinely baffled. "And with that, you still call each other ’brothers’?"

Then her tone sharpened, cool and threatening. "But I’ve been in a decent mood lately, so—hand over the food, and I’ll pretend I never saw you."

"You’ve got some nerve—" one Brotherhood member snapped, yanking out a hand crossbow.

The leader threw an arm out to stop him. Narrowing his eyes at the girl above, he asked, "You only want food?"

"Yeah. Just food."

She yawned, utterly unconcerned by the ring of armed men below. "I haven’t eaten in days. Have a heart."

It was like... she didn’t consider them a threat at all.

"Fine," the leader said. "We’ll give you food. But why not join the Brotherhood? We need someone like you. If you come with us, you can have whatever you want."

The girl burst out laughing, her eyes flashing with mockery. "You’ve got to be kidding. I finally get out from under one organization, and now you want me to join another?"

Her voice stayed pleasant, but the warning inside it turned sharp enough to cut. "Alright. Before I change my mind, leave the food here—and walk out that door."

"..."

"Go," the Brotherhood leader said quietly to his people after a final look at her.

"Gedun, you—"

"Shut up," Gedun snarled. "I said go!"

The girl’s voice drifted after them. "He’s right. Listen to him and hurry up. Don’t wait until I change my mind—then none of you will be leaving."

No one saw when she came down from the beam.

One moment she was above them—then she was suddenly crouched in the center of their formation. She reached down, picked up a piece of fruit, and with her other hand, lifted the edge of her mask just enough to reveal a delicate chin. Then she brought the fruit to her mouth and took a bite.

Gedun’s pupils shrank.

He didn’t argue again—he led everyone out of the abandoned house.

Outside, one member couldn’t take it anymore. "Gedun, she’s just one person!"

Gedun looked at him and said, "Yeah. One person. But you still don’t get it, do you? She got close without any of us noticing. She knew who we were and still wasn’t afraid. You really think she’s ordinary?"

"That woman is almost certainly a disciple from one of the orders. That’s not someone we can handle."

The man fell silent.

Only then did the memory catch up: the way she’d vanished from the beam—then appeared in the middle of them without a sound, casually grabbing their food.

They were veterans. The ones sent out on missions were scouts and assassins. And yet an unknown girl had approached them like they were amateurs.

Gedun was right. She wasn’t someone they could deal with.

"Head to Bondweave Village," Gedun decided after a moment. "Finish what the organization ordered. Grab some people to bring back. Then we report this to the higher-ups. The organization will handle her."

Ionia was getting more chaotic by the day.

The Vastaya’s stance was unclear. Traitor spies were scattered everywhere. The resistance and the Brotherhood were at odds. And now even the reclusive orders were sending their disciples out into the world.

Gedun glanced back at the house once, then turned away and led the group toward Bondweave Village at a run.

Not long after they left, the spiky-haired girl stepped out through the doorway and stretched right there on the threshold.

Two shadow sickles hung at her waist. A soft, exhausted sound slipped from her throat as she muttered to herself.

"Bondweave Village? So the Brotherhood really is going to grab bodies again."

She exhaled, irritated. "What a pain. I was planning to go to Weh’le to hunt traitors, but... if I’ve seen this, I can’t just ignore it."

She lifted her head, staring in the direction the Brotherhood had gone. With a sigh, she pulled her mask back into place and said quietly:

"The Three Disciplines? Screw the Three Disciplines."

"I act for myself. The physical world is already a corpse-strewn mess—who has time to keep the spiritual world tidy?"

She tapped the ground with her toe, sprang up in a blur—and vanished from the doorway.

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