FREE USE in Primitive World

He ordered everyone to slow down, even though the thick morning mist severely restricted Zerith’s sensory capabilities, Sol wasn’t gonna take any chances.

The squad dropped onto their bellies, their bodies sinking into the thick fern-growth without a sound. One hundred and eighty spirit warriors pressed themselves flat against the wet earth, holding their breath as they dragged their bone weapons through the mud.

Thanks to the alpha hound’s soul, he could literally feel the spiritual vibrations and breathing patterns of the outer sentries without even looking.

Sol pointed to Hargon and threw his hand toward a low gully on the left. He didn’t use words; a simple tilt of his chin told the boar-spirit veteran to take his squad through the hollow where the mist was thickest.

Hargon nodded, his eyes full of respect, and waved his twenty men forward. They glided through the mud like lizards.

Next, Sol gestured to Mara, directing her speed squad toward a cluster of petrified trunks on the right flank, bypassing a pair of hidden Zerith bone-traps buried in the muck that only his silver senses could pick up.

With his silver sensory grid wide open, guiding one hundred and eighty people through a hostile perimeter was a breeze. He knew exactly where every eye was looking and where every guard was slacking.

The squad leaders followed his silent hand signals without a single question, completely locked into his lead.

They moved like a massive, silent net closing in on the basin.

Sol, Kira, and Zeyra crawled forward, sliding past a massive tangle of thorn-bushes until they reached the edge of a low dirt ridge.

Tala was already there, her wiry frame pressed tight against a decaying root, her nose twitching as she traced the heavy stench of the camp.

Sol reached out and carefully parted a patch of thick, weeping leaves, peering down into the basin.

The heavy grey mist swirled for a brief second, parting just enough to give him a clear look at the outpost.

It was a crude, primitive settlement, entirely built from the materials of the jungle, yet expanded through sheer numbers. A thick, semi-circular barricade made of sharpened bones and timber logs bound together with heavy vines lined the perimeter.

Watch platforms, roughly woven from thick branches and wild hemp ropes, were built into the forks of the surrounding giant trees, overlooking the low approach trails.

Inside the walls, dozens of Zerith warriors were moving lazily through the rising morning mist.

Some were scraping the fat off large chunks of roasted jungle meat over low, smoking fires; others were huddled inside large, conical tents made from hides, their long, lanky limbs twitching as they tried to settle into sleep after the long night guard.

The air in the hollow was thick and nauseating, filled with the foul, oily smell of their sweat mixed with woodsmoke and the copper tang of blood.

Sol observed the camp for several minutes, his eyes scanning every corner with a detached precision. He tracked the movement of the sentries on the high platforms, noting the slow rotation.

They were sluggish.

Their steps were heavy, and their bone-tipped spears were resting loosely against their shoulders.

There was no sign of hidden traps, no suspicious gaps in their lines, and no indication that they expected an attack.

The careless layout was completely genuine.

Joran, a lean speed-based commander who had been assigned to assist Sol and manage the communication lines between the teams, crawled up to his left side.

His speed based spirit made his eyes twitch slightly as he stared at the bone walls.

”The layout is exactly what our scouts reported last season,” Joran whispered, his breath shallow. ”The Gray Marauders helped them build those bone fences, but the Marauders themselves are too lazy and uncivilized to stay in the low swamp.

Their primary tribe camp is pinned to the dry southern ridges further back. They layout their camps the same way every time... they put the weak, young warriors and the old meat on the outer periphery to act as a meat shield, while the high-tier ones and the core storage houses are locked deep in the center.”

Sol nodded slowly, a cold smirk touching his lips. ”It’s the same routine everywhere. They use the weak fodder as a shield to buy time for the strong ones to arm themselves.”

”Yes,” Joran muttered, ”But even though the mist has choked their senses, their numbers inside that circle are high. There are easily three hundred warriors in those hide tents. If we launch a direct charge from the front, the watch platforms will see us before we hit the bone gates, and they’ll have time to organize a solid spear-wall.”

”Who said anything about a front charge?” Sol said, his tone casual but rough. ”Stay here and keep the squads locked in the ferns. I’m going in to map the internal layout myself.”

Kira’s head snapped toward him from the right, her eyes narrowing in immediate opposition.

”Are you crazy, Sol? The perimeter fence has three separate lookout platforms overlooking. The moment your black armor breaks the mist, they will find out. You can’t ghost through a closed settlement alone.”

”Don’t worry, they won’t sense anything.” Sol said flatly, ignoring her grasp as he loosened the leather bindings of his sapphire blade. ”Stay down and watch the gates.”

Before she could argue further, Sol’s body dropped low, his frame melting straight into the thick, white veil of the morning mist.

He didn’t utilize his golden essence in his sun core, as he had felt that natives here are very sensitive to the movement of essence. So he relied entirely on the expanded silver energy sitting inside his chest.

According to his experience, they were completely oblivious to the movement of Free Use energy. He didn’t know the reason, but well it worked in his favor and thanks to various spirits he had absorbed until now, his hiding abilities were top notch, especially combined with a bit of Free Use energy floating around him to dull their senses even more.

The cold, viscous fluid hummed with a quiet clarity, mapping out the biological structural lines of the sentries through the fog before he even reached the fence.

He smoothly slid through a narrow gap between the bone barricade. Once inside the perimeter, he moved like a shadow between the stinking hide tents.