Her hands trembled as she reached into her magic pouch and pulled out a flaskskin. She uncorked it and immediately pressed it to her lips, practically chugging the water.
Glug. Glug. Glug.
She drank like she'd been wandering through a desert for days, barely stopping to breathe until half the flask was gone.
A long, satisfied exhale escaped her. "Ah…"
Nearby, Zion, Maxwell, and Levi were still moving through the clearing alongside the Royal Guard captain and his warriors. They weren't celebrating yet.
They were searching.
Every overturned body.
Every patch of darkness, every bush and broken tree, and every faint sound.
If they found a rogue still breathing, they didn't bother dragging them back for interrogation.
They killed them, quickly, without hesitation.
Zion had already learned the hard way that these death warriors weren't going to give them anything useful.
