Rustle, rustle. Close footsteps sounded in the forest. Lawndale had cast the Levitation spell on Aymons and Walter and then pushed them through the forest with the Magician's Hand.
"Lawndale, you shouldn't have come!" Aymons couldn't see, and his Mana had been completely sealed off—he was completely useless now. Only death awaited Dark Elves like him, and he didn't want to involve his favorite disciple.
After Walter lost his man's pride, he became completely decadent. "Lawndale," he said in pain. "The Master is right. If you really want to help, kill me!"
Lawndale didn't speak. He glanced back, sensing that the human pursuers were getting closer and closer. There were also barks from dogs, shocking him. He immediately realized that he had panicked while rescuing them and made a mistake. He didn't kill all the hounds.
He was not as fast as the scouts, especially with two others with him. If he kept running like this, they would catch up.
