Chapter One Hundred and Eleven

Marco’s POV

Sage's expression mirrored my concern. "It's like they were hit with something unexpected. But what could have caused this?"

My mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. It didn't make sense for an enemy camp to be in such a state of disarray. Swiftclaw had always been known for their vigilance and readiness.

As we continued to move through the camp, my gaze landed on a group of soldiers, their expressions vacant and their movements sluggish. Bottles and tankards lay strewn around them, evidence of a night of revelry. The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. They were drunk, incapacitated by their own celebration.

"Why would they let their guard down like this?" I mused aloud, my voice tinged with disbelief.

Sage's eyes narrowed in agreement. "It's unlike them.”

Gently, we passed the incapacitated soldiers, their snores and mumbled words echoing in the stillness. Our steps were careful and deliberate as we moved toward the cage that held Scarlett captive.