Just as Lucas closed his eyes, resigned to his fate, Ariana suddenly hugged him tightly. In moments of despair where crying or shouting seemed impossible. The mist violently stirred once again, a group of cavalrymen on swift horses charged out of the mist, clearing a path for themselves. Accompanying their appearance was a torrent of arrows raining down fiercely. The ambushed erupted in uncontrollable screams, falling from their horses one by one. Around Lucas and Ariana, sounds of collisions between hooves, human bodies, and blades filled the air, accompanied by the wails of the dying.
The tall, black-clad girl excitedly rushed to the forefront, wielding a whip that danced like a snake. Each strike precisely hit the vital points of the cavalrymen, creating explosive sounds as many lost their eyeballs due to the whip's impact. Although the skirmish was brief, it was brutal. The group of cavalrymen, who were once formidable, proved defenseless against the sudden onslaught of the girl's guards. While individually, these guards were no match for Lucas, their coordinated tactics demonstrated military precision. They swiftly employed a hit-and-run strategy, with each small unit engaging two or three hunters before moving on to the next target. Each member exuded an aura of ruthless efficiency, as if they were accustomed to such scenes of slaughter. The entire battle concluded in a matter of seconds, with the last hunter screaming as he tumbled from his horse. Everything unfolded so rapidly.
Several horses galloped to Lucas and Ariana's side, with the black-clad girl leading the way. She gripped her whip, her face covered in sweat from the intense battle. She looked at Ariana struggling to get up, holding Lucas' bloodied body in a daze.
...This stinky refugee has saved me several times? Tears swirled in Ariana's eyes. She didn't know what she was feeling anymore, complete numbness had taken over. She was oblivious to the changes around her. Watching Lucas laboriously gasping for breath, his hands touching blood everywhere, and the blood constantly spurting from this stinky refugee's body! How much blood can one person lose? When the blood runs out, will this stinky refugee leave her forever?
She held Lucas' head tightly, murmuring, "Don't die... please don't die... I haven't repaid you, and my father hasn't met you. Stinky refugee, you have to hold on! I promise Uncle Cyrus to return to the Ctesiphon City, I won't run away anymore. You have to hold on! Open your eyes and talk to me!"
The black-clad girl sneered, "Hey, he's so severely injured, he's as good as dead! Why are you crying while holding a dead person?" Looking at this person who made her lose face lying there, covered in blood, the girl felt satisfied. Look at you, can you still call me flat-chested girl! On closer inspection, however, she found that Ariana was unscathed. This guy had used his body to shield her from all the arrows! The black-clad girl couldn't help but feel a twinge, this annoying guy is quite loyal to the persian girl... quite a man.
Ariana sat there, staring blankly at her, then lowered her head, trembling hands touching Lucas' face. She felt his body temperature dropping rapidly. He had countless times warmed her injured body with his warmth during the nights. Those warm, big hands had carried her through numerous escapes, his mischievous smile, his foul mouth, and his voice...
"I don't want you to die!"
A guard rushed to the black-clad girl's side, "Miss, the kights have been dealt with. The hunting troops from the east bank may come at any moment, we must leave immediately!" The black-clad girl, still in a daze, snapped back to attention. She ordered loudly, "Take this ugly woman with us, this guy is dead anyway, leave him here. Let's retreat immediately!"
Lucas lay there heavily, feeling his body getting colder. Only his right hand still felt a piece of warm, he could even sense Ariana's cool little hands frantically searching for signs of life on his body. And her crying, tears dropped on his face, warm. But he just couldn't open his eyes. "I can't die like this! I haven't experienced enough in this era! I still have to protect Ariana! Good people don't live long, bad guys live forever.. I am a bad guy!"
In the midst of the blur, he heard a crisp voice proclaiming him dead. The warmth in his hands surged rapidly to his heart at that moment. He abruptly opened his eyes and exclaimed, "Damn, I'm still alive!" He saw the ecstatic expression on Ariana's face and the flat-chested girl on horseback, gazing at him with surprise. The agony from all over his body vividly registered in his mind, causing him to black out once again. However, before losing consciousness, he couldn't resist maintaining his true nature and cursed as usual.
"Hmph, an A-cup... "
When the large hunting troops led by Cyrus broke through the mist and reached the west bank, they were met with a scene of corpses, blood-soaked ground, and chaotic horse tracks. All the cavalrymen were awaiting the wrath of the General. However, Cyrus remained silent, carefully inspecting the scattered short knives and remnants of arrows on the ground.
A long arrow, still stained with blood and carrying fragments of flesh on its barbed tip, was respectfully handed over. Cyrus took it, glanced at it briefly, and clenched his fist. The arrowhead, made of refined iron, emitted a cracking sound within his metal glove. Suppressing his anger, he issued a command to the troops, "Awaiting the arrival of the main force, divide the troops into three routes. One heads straight for Galarsan Fortress, another for Berdatev Fortress, and I will personally lead the main troop towards Javanshir Fortress! ... The Ashina! The Barbarian!"