Before Lara and Aramis could enter the entrance of the mangrove forest, the underbrush rustled, and shadows emerged from the forest, their trousers wet and dripping.
Lara tensed. Her hand grabbed the bow at her back.
When she looked closer, they were the soldiers of Northem.
Lara heaved a sigh of relief.
Some bore fresh bruises and cuts, but none seemed gravely injured.
From behind the gnarled trees, Bener and the remaining members of the Eagle Team appeared, their faces streaked with mud and exhaustion. They herded a group of about a hundred Estalis soldiers, hands bound tightly behind their backs with coarse rope. The prisoners trudged forward, heads bowed, the weight of defeat pressing on their shoulders.
Lara frowned. The camp was already crowded — would there be space for all these prisoners?
"What are you doing here, Kane?" Bener’s voice rang out, rough and tired. He stood a few meters away, eyes narrowing as he spotted Kane.
"Asael was worried," Kane answered, his tone grim. "Kellan and Berlin were hurt."
Bener’s expression darkened. "How are they?"
"They’ve been treated," Kane answered briefly.
Bener became worried even more. Could he not give a hint whether the two were doing well or in a coma?
Lara was about to turn away when a flicker of movement caught her eye. From behind a twisted mangrove trunk, a man stumbled into view. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, his face pale, sweat drenching his brow as he struggled to support another soldier. Blood poured from a gaping wound on the injured man’s thigh, staining the murky water crimson.
Then — another shadow.
Lara’s breath hitched. From behind the pair, an Estalis soldier crept forward, his face twisted in a mask of hatred. His blade was raised, poised to strike, and it glimmered in the sunlight that sifted through the lush canopy of green above them.
With lightning speed, Lara’s hand flew to the knife strapped to her outer thigh. In one fluid motion, she unsheathed it and hurled it through the air with deadly precision.
The silver blade embedded itself squarely between the enemy’s eyes. He toppled backward into the swamp, disbelief frozen on his face, dead before he hit the ground. The two men turned, eyes wide with terror, as they realized how close death had been.
Lara dismounted her horse, walking toward the fallen soldier to retrieve her knife. The older man, the one who was gravely injured, looked at her with gratitude.
"Thank you, young man. We owe our lives to you."
Lara paused, brow furrowing. His face was oddly familiar. Before she could place him, a familiar scent wafted through the air — the smell of her medicinal paste.
"Get down!" He shouted.
Lara was about to lunge for the two men, to shove them into the water, just as the air hissed with danger. She felt a firm arm wrap around her waist, pulling her behind a gnarled tree. She found herself pressed back-to-back with Alaric, both gripping their bows, eyes scanning the lush green foliage that hid the enemies.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Arrows rained down from the shadows of the mangrove, thudding into tree trunks and splashing into the brackish water. A few of the captured Estalis soldiers cried out and crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain as they were randomly hit.
Bener and his team scrambled for cover.
"Thank you," Lara whispered.
Alaric’s eyes were sharp, darting between the shadows. "We can’t use the bows here. We’ll be exposed."
Lara reached into the bottom pocket of her pack, pulling out a handful of slender bamboo darts. She handed a few to Alaric.
"I have these," Lara said softly as if remembering something. Those were the darts they made when they spent the night in Ilaya at Mount MarNubes.
"What could these things do? They are so light, and the tips are just sharpened bamboo. No metal." He raised a brow.
Lara turned back suddenly, and her lips brushed his chest.
Alaric’s face reddened.
Lara peeked out from behind the tree. An arrow whizzed past her cheek, but she stood her ground. Drawing back her arm, she threw a dart and let it fly.
A distant thud echoed through the swamp.
"Ha!" came a mocking laugh. "The Northem soldiers are pathetic! I thought I got bitten by an ant. What kind of toy is this—"
The man who was arrogant just now fell from the branch of the tree.
"Idiot! Ha ha ha!" It was her turn to mock him.
Lara smirked. "The tip of the arrows were dipped in a numbing powder. As long as it punctured the skin and the powder entered the bloodstream, the body will go numb."
Alaric’s gaze locked on Lara. He did not know what to think of her. She was a healer but also someone who killed the enemies.
Alaric did not waste any more time as it would be dark soon. His sharp eyes scanned the shadows, calculating every rustling leaf and flicker of movement. The darts flew from his hand one after another, each throw followed by a splash as unseen enemies fell into the swamp.
Panic spread through the ranks of the hidden enemies. Someone shouted, "Retreat!" and the sound of splashing footsteps faded into the distance.
When the forest grew quiet once more, Alaric signaled Bener. The Northem soldiers moved out of hiding, regrouping in the clearing.
Lara hurried back to the two injured men. The wounded man’s condition had worsened; his leg, submerged in the filthy water, was now an angry red, the infection spreading rapidly. She crouched to help him, but a shadow loomed beside her.
His icy glare swept over Aramis, and the man felt goosebumps all over his body. In a blink he was beside the two injured and conveniently pushing Lara toward Alaric.
Lara blinked, startled. "What are you do—"
"Let him do it," Alaric cut her off, his voice low. The edge in his tone sent chills racing down Aramis’s spine.
’Oh, well. Let him do it.’ She muttered as she went ahead and wait for the in the clearing.
That man needed urgent attention, otherwise his leg might not be saved.