---
"Put me down! You better run!"
On the other side of the foggy battlefield, the scout Miss Anbo sighed weakly:
"We're on the edge of the mist. Hurry up and get help. Whether these five hundred people can survive depends on you."
"Everything's so chaotic, how am I supposed to run?"
The one carrying her, Bull Bull, grumbled:
"Damn it, you're worthless! You're a skilled scout but your luck is always miserable. I remember you were the first one to fall in Morlan village, right? By the way, I've been wanting to ask you, was your eye injury caused by us last time?"
"No."
Two arrows were stuck in Miss Anbo's back. Given a psychic hunter's physical condition, two arrows wouldn't usually be fatal. However, the psychic hunters were apparently less honorable than the witch hunters. Those pragmatists had added a Weakness spell to their arrows, making it hard for Miss Anbo to even walk.
