We followed the plan Ron laid out.
Ron and Sam would take the front as melee attackers. Niles and I were assigned ranged roles—archery, scouting, and overwatch. Paul and Maria stayed protected in the middle.
Because of the terrain, I made a decision before we moved out.
The swamp wasn't suited for a spear.
Its length would slow me down, especially if I needed to reposition quickly. I left it behind in the village and carried only my sword and bow.
After Ron informed the village chief of the plan—and warned him not to let anyone enter the forest—we moved out.
Niles took the lead, but unlike the rest of us, he stayed above.
He moved through the trees with practiced ease, leaping from branch to branch to avoid the swamp entirely. Ron and Sam advanced through the water below, Maria and Paul behind them. I stayed at the rear, wading carefully, watching our flanks.
The water reached our knees in some places, higher in others. Every step threatened to pull us off balance.
Then Niles raised his hand from above.
We froze.
He dropped down quietly and spoke in a low voice.
"Six lizardmen ahead. Three with swords. One spear. Two carrying blow darts."
Our first hunting group.
Ron's expression hardened.
"We remove the ranged fighters first," he said. "Sam and I will handle the melee once they react."
He turned to Maria.
"No fire. Not here. Smoke will give us away."
She nodded immediately.
The ambush was set.
Niles positioned himself at the top of the tree trunk again. I pressed closer to its base, drawing my bow upward from the swamp.
He gestured—left side was his. Right side was mine.
The lizardmen approached.
They were roughly human-sized, bodies covered in thick scales that acted as natural armor. Their webbed feet moved easily through the swamp water. Sharp fangs showed when they spoke among themselves, and faint gill-like slits along their necks marked them as creatures built for this terrain.
I nocked an arrow.
My breathing tightened.
If I missed, someone below would pay for it.
Niles noticed my hesitation.
"Breathe," he whispered from above. "An archer's calm matters more than speed."
I steadied myself.
At his signal, we fired.
My arrow struck cleanly into the chest of the lizardman on my side. Niles' shot followed an instant later—piercing straight through the eye of his target.
Both dropped without a sound.
Before their bodies hit the water, Ron and Sam charged.
Ron moved first—one precise swing, severing the spear-wielder's head as it turned too late. Sam followed, cutting down another swordsman with brutal efficiency.
The remaining three reacted fast.
Too fast for hesitation.
Niles loosed another arrow from the trees, dropping one of the remaining lizardmen before it could raise its weapon. Ron and Sam engaged the last two head-on.
I had already drawn a second arrow.
For a brief moment, I hesitated.
Ron and Sam were fully engaged—moving fast, closing distance. I didn't want to risk interfering.
I saw toward Niles and asked quietly,
"Should I fire?"
He didn't look at me.
"No," he said calmly. "They've got it."
The last two lizardmen fell seconds later.
Silence returned to the swamp.
I lowered my bow.
Their coordination was precise—almost frightening. No wasted motion. No overlap. Each of them trusted the others completely.
We confirmed the area was clear and moved again, circling the outskirts of the swamp, waiting for another hunting group to appear.
Then Niles stiffened in the trees.
He raised his hand sharply—then dropped down faster than before.
"There's something else," he said.
And this time, his voice wasn't calm.