"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" Lane, perched on a tree trunk, was the first to react, shouting a loud warning.
The sharp "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" of arrows filled the air. Another guard fell, followed by a palace maid clutching her blood-soaked chest as she collapsed to the ground.
The shadow guards responded immediately, swiftly forming a protective phalanx around the princess.
From the dense forest came faint rustling sounds. Hidden by the darkness and the thick foliage, countless enemies surged forward.
They've come after all. Sir Lane thought grimly. After discovering traitors within their group, he had anticipated an ambush. Lane had deliberately avoided the main road through Peters Territory, instead choosing the desolate Mophy Forest. But barely had they exited the forest when the attack came.
No, there must be a spy! Lane's realization struck him hard. How could the enemy have known their location the moment they left the forest? Someone must have leaked their movements. Leaping from the tree, Lane sprinted towards the princess.
The dense forest, though perfect for hiding, also obstructed his vision. Lane felt frustrated. Under normal circumstances, he would have detected the enemy long before they got this close.
As Lane reached the protective circle around Princess Angelina, chaos erupted. The princess's last standing guard suddenly drew his sword and slashed at a nearby shadow guard. At the same moment, two other shadow guards turned on their comrades. The protective formation crumbled instantly. Arrows rained down relentlessly. Blood, severed limbs, and agonized screams filled the air. Though the shadow guards were Garrel's elite force, the combination of internal betrayal and external assault left them disorganized, each fighting desperately for survival.
Lane summoned his fighting energy, swatting aside a shadow guard blocking his path. He couldn't be certain who was still loyal and who was a traitor. A few startled shadow guards lashed out at him in confusion, but Lane deflected their strikes effortlessly.
"Princess, we must go!" Lane grabbed Princess Angelina, who clutched a book tightly to her chest, her face pale with fear. Without hesitation, Lane pulled her deeper into the forest. The sound of arrows gradually faded behind them as dozens of masked figures emerged from the shadows.
These black-clad assassins cut down anyone in their path, friend or foe alike. "Wait! I'm one of you!" shouted the traitorous guard who had turned on the princess's defenders. But his plea was cut short as two masked men beheaded him simultaneously. His final expression was one of fear and confusion.
The chaos continued. The remaining shadow guards fought desperately, holding off the attackers. The masked assassins were not exceptionally skilled, and their numbers temporarily stalled under the remaining defenders' resilience. Lane didn't dare look back. With Princess Angelina in tow, he fled, accompanied by only two remaining shadow guards. The rest had either died in the chaos or were now surrounded.
Lane quickly scanned the forest, made a decision, and ordered, "Head southeast!" Dragging the terrified princess with him, Lane sprinted forward, the two shadow guards close behind.
Back at the camp, the fighting raged on. The shadow guard numbers dwindled from over ten to just four. The final four stood back-to-back, fending off wave after wave of attacks. The masked bodies piled up around them, but reinforcements continued pouring from the dense undergrowth, crushing any hope of survival.
Eventually, the last shadow guard fell, exhausted and overpowered. A hulking brute emerged from the masked men.
"Where are the others?" the strong man snarled, his face twisted with malice.
The shadow guard remained silent, his face emotionless.
"You'll regret this." With a savage kick, the strong man shattered the guard's right knee. A sickening crack echoed through the air.
The shadow guard's face turned pale, but he made no sound. As one of Garrel's elite, trained from childhood and utterly loyal to the king, he would not break. Most shadow guards were orphans, raised with unwavering loyalty to their king. Sir Lane, a noble, was an exception within their ranks.
"Stubborn Garrel dogs," the brute spat. "Kill him!"
Even in his final moments, the shadow guard's gaze remained steely, a faint glimmer of life still visible in his eyes.
It was clear from their accents and demeanor—the attackers were not from Garrel.
"Is Viscount Maxibert's intelligence reliable?" the brute muttered. These assassins were private troops under Viscount Maxibert of Shiloh's southern province. The strong man himself was a hired strongman with the strength of a low-ranking knight squire.
"Search the area! Find them!" he barked. "Why couldn't that Maxibert bastard be clear about the target? Now I have to deal with this mess myself."
The strong man had every reason to be confident. Though a low-ranking knight squire, he was at the peak of his rank, only a breath away from advancing to mid-tier status.
Meanwhile, Lane dragged Princess Angelina deeper into the forest. Had it not been for her royal status, he would have carried her to move faster. Despite her court swordsmanship training, Angelina's physical strength was no match for Lane's. Her training focused more on elegant movements than practical combat.
Lane could sense a powerful presence among the attackers—someone who, though weaker than him, could easily stall him in a fight. His priority was the princess's safety, not a suicidal last stand.
Hours passed. The group of four continued their exhausting flight. Though no pursuers were visible, none of them dared to relax. The forest was dense, the ground uneven with sharp rocks, making it impossible to see far ahead. Lane and the two shadow guards merely panted heavily, but Princess Angelina's face was flushed, her legs numb and trembling as she stumbled forward mechanically.
"Over there—a cave!" Lane spotted a stone cave nearby. His eyes lit up, and he led the group inside.
With one swift strike, Lane crushed the skull of a wild wolf inside the cave. Finally, they had a moment of respite.
The two shadow guards, after a brief rest, took up positions at the cave's entrance. Lane joined them, staying vigilant.
Princess Angelina, trembling and drenched in sweat, quietly wiped her forehead. Her ankles cramped painfully, but she dared not cry out. For a princess, being touched by any man other than her family was an unforgivable violation punishable by amputation. Angelina bore the pain in silence, longing for the company of her two loyal maids who had died protecting her earlier.
Was this all caused by my single decision to leave the palace? she thought, her heart heavy with guilt. Though intelligent and praised by her tutors, Angelina had underestimated the cruelty of palace politics and the treachery of the outside world.
If given another chance, she would not have been so reckless.
Back in the forest, the masked assassins regrouped. Just as they prepared to leave, the sound of rustling leaves surrounded them. Crimson-armored soldiers emerged, their silent presence exuding an aura of death.
"Who are you?" the brute growled, his instincts screaming danger. These crimson warriors, though fewer in number, radiated an overwhelming sense of bloodlust.
The silence was unbearable until two figures in darker crimson armor stepped forward.
"Who do you serve?" one of them rasped, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.