The commotion of the Eagle Flock and Night Hawk leaving allowed the two people separated by just a wall to sigh with relief.
Just monts ago, the woman was too scared of being discovered to even breathe, feeling as if her breath would cease altogether. Now, relaxing brought a wave of dizziness that pulsed at the back of her head, blurring her consciousness.
By comparison, Margaret was in much better shape. She could engage in a prolonged standoff with her prey, preferring to wait for it to show a weakness before delivering a fatal blow, which highlighted her calm temperant.
This woman was naturally unflappable!
But even Margaret now exhaled a long, turbid breath, steadying her sowhat ragged breathing.
Once she relaxed, however, she couldn't help but be curious, given the bizarre turn of events that had just occurred.
Chased by the Eagle Flock, she had braced for death upon collision, but then, shockingly, was saved by them.
"Hey, how co you..." Margaret began to ask in a low voice, but the other person slumped over and passed out.
This only served to confuse her further. I didn't do anything; you're faking it!
But her curiosity only intensified. Supporting the unconscious woman, she lifted the hood and saw the crudely bandaged wound on the back of the woman's head, which appeared to have reopened during their recent sprint.
Margaret was no ignorant young lady; quite the opposite. Influenced by her father, she had been acquainted with military knowledge from a young age. Her frequent hunting expeditions also made her proficient in treating wounds.
Battlefield dicine!
Margaret skillfully took out her first aid kit from her waist, retrieved so dicinal powder and bandages, and promptly dressed the woman's wound.
Her escape hadn't been a spur-of-the-mont decision, but a well-thought-out plan. Naturally, the dicine Baron Lawrence had prepared for his daughter was far superior to the sort Laura might have, and it quickly stopped the bleeding. Only then did Margaret breathe easier.
Otherwise, if Laura returned to find her companion dead, Margaret knew she would be unjustly blad.
Black hair—this person isn't from the Barbarian Tribes!
Margaret suddenly realized this and couldn't resist examining her further.
A full and rounded figure, skin as smooth as an egg, hands without the calluses from wielding weapons, and muscles showing no signs of training.
This person was definitely not from the Eagle Flock but was disguised; for what reason, Margaret couldn't tell.
Still, this didn't explain why they would save her. She wanted to ask, but one had run off, and the other was unconscious.
Margaret couldn't figure it out and didn't bother to try. The tension of the past two days had frayed her nerves. Now, having found a rare mont of safety, all she wanted was to rest. Yet, she couldn't stop herself from trying to make sense of the bizarre situation.
She indeed had a plan, aware that if she tried to escape alone, she would surely be captured.
So after fleeing, instead of heading out of the area, she plunged into the forest to leave false tracks leading away, then circled back toward Bastia City.
The idea was sound. However, facing those Eagle Flock professionals, even Laura wouldn't have been confident of escape. Therefore, it was natural that Margaret's arrangents only delayed them for a short ti before they caught up to her.
And then that bizarre episode occurred...
Laura stopped and looked up to survey her surroundings. There were no circling birds overhead, and all sounds had ceased; she had indeed shaken off the Eagle Flock mbers.
Under the shadow of her hood, her mouth curved into a rare hint of self-assurance. She wouldn't have been confident in the wilderness, but here in Bastia City, she was very self-assured.
She had tracked countless targets in this city, and her knowledge of it was extraordinary.
Today, however, she was the target, and her mission was to lead two individuals away from their pursuers.
Moreover, she knew which areas the Eagle Flock dared not venture near—places like churches, the rcenary Guild, and the vicinity of noble estates—which were perfect for concealnt.
Also, a Night Hawk's eyes were sensitive to fast-moving objects but struggled to discern stationary ones.
It was her familiarity with the environnt, her understanding of the Eagle Flock, and her knowledge of the Night Hawks' thods that allowed her to confidently shake off their pursuers, even while burdened with two others.
Laura took a different route, circling back. From her deanor, it was clear she had no intention of betraying Margaret.
Not only did she provide cover for her, but she even took the initiative to lead the Eagle Flock away.
It wasn't a sudden pang of conscience or a reflection on the bond ford between the two won during the festival competition that had inspired her.
Rather, she realized that Margaret, a noble and, moreover, the captured daughter of Baron Lawrence, was a more useful asset than the other woman.
Presenting her to the Lord of Hamlet would undoubtedly be a great service, earning Laura significant rit.
She had long since seen the cruel reality; having co this far, there was no turning back.
She was fed up! She didn't want to endure any more humiliation from the Eagle Flock.
Eagles have always been free—this was how their leaders had comforted the tribe when the Eagle Flock defected from the Mountains.
The only support the Eagle Flock had truly given her was psychological: the lack of pressure when it ca to running away.
From the mont they defected from the Mountains, they had lost their nests. An eagle might perch on a tree temporarily, but it would eventually take flight again, perhaps never to land.
Laura's scattered thoughts ceased. As she registered her return, her slightly raised gaze filled with a cold detachnt.
She had specifically circled the area, wary of any ambush. Only after confirming it was clear did she cautiously approach.
Then she saw discarded bandages on the ground and the two won leaning against each other, asleep.
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