As night fell and darkness spread, four fluorite lamps hanging from either side of the carriage cast a faint, cold glow across the silent wilderness, like drifting ghost lights guiding the way forward. The wheels rumbled on like distant thunder, startling birds and beasts alike, while rustling sounds stirred through the surrounding brush.
Awooo!
Under the pale moonlight, wolves the size of calves chased after the carriage, darting through the forests on both sides and from behind. Their violent magical energy kicked up clouds of dust along the way. Trees that blocked their path were smashed apart with a single swipe, splintering into pale fragments as sharp cracking sounds echoed through the night.
Samael, riding at the rear, didn't even bother to turn around. He casually drew the greatsword from his back, pouring mana into it and activating the inscriptions carved along the blade. A crimson glow flared into a towering inferno, and a wave of destructive force swept outward.
Within a hundred meters, the demonic wolves were instantly reduced to charred husks. Those slightly farther away were torn apart and crushed by the aftershock of the strike, their bodies ripped into scattered chunks of flesh.
As the flames rose, Samael calmly sheathed his sword. He glanced at his dark red palm, faintly giving off the smell of scorched flesh, and frowned slightly.
The [Branch of Annihilation] was powerful, but without proper compatibility, it was still somewhat unwieldy.
Neigh!
Just as the Ancient Serpent wiped out the pack of demonic wolves attempting to hunt the convoy, a heavy, pained cry came from ahead.
Passing through an unremarkable dip in the terrain, the lead warhorse, exhausted from the long run, stepped into a hidden pit. Its legs buckled instantly, and it crashed forward, about to smash headfirst into the stone ground.
At that critical moment, ether resonated, forming a faintly distorted lifting force that hoisted both the horse and the carriage into the air, dispersing the impact.
After a brief pause, Samael pressed his hand downward, guiding the carriage to land safely. Gorgo and Helen, clinging tightly to the door, were still shaken. They took several deep breaths before steadying themselves and climbing down to check the situation.
"How is it?"
Samael pulled the reins tight, stopping his own carriage by the roadside. He jumped down and asked with a frown.
"The hooves are split, both front legs are broken, and that impact just now snapped the axle too…"
Gorgo's expression was tense, her lips pressed tight, her eyes filled with unease.
That was a troublesome set of injuries.
Samael looked at the gruesome open wounds on the horse's front legs. The flesh had been torn apart, and jagged white bone protruded clearly into view. A headache began to form. He casually shoved the broken bone back into place, then cut some sturdy branches from nearby shrubs to splint the legs before preparing to cast a healing spell.
His method, however, was far too rough. The poor warhorse writhed in agony, struggling and crying out as its body thrashed against the ground, scraping against stones until it was covered in blood.
Just as the Ancient Serpent considered whether to knock it out physically, a pair of fair, delicate hands reached in from the side, gently stroking the horse's neck. Soft, steady divine words were spoken, and a gentle white glow gathered in her palms, calming the nearly maddened animal little by little until it became completely docile.
At that point, it looked as though even if someone placed it on a chopping block, it would quietly stretch out its neck and accept the blade without resistance.
"I'll calm her. Please treat her as quickly as possible. Don't let her suffer too much."
Helen, who had stepped down from the carriage at some point, gave a slight nod to the assassin bodyguard. Her voice was soft and clear, like a nightingale's song.
Samael glanced at the pale glow in Helen's hand, thoughtful.
The authority of Artemis… so she really had received the blessing of that huntress goddess.
The thought passed in an instant. With Helen's help, the Ancient Serpent focused, and in short order, he finished setting the bones and sealing the wounds.
At once, faint patterns of light began to ripple across the body of the High Priestess of the Moon Temple. The warhorse's bones knit themselves back together, and its wounds closed rapidly. In moments, it struggled back to its feet, swaying as it took a few unsteady steps.
"Can we move now?"
Gorgo, who had been pacing nearby, stepped forward to ask, her eyes full of urgency.
Her husband, her brother, her people were all retreating to Thermopylae, facing a Persian army many times their size.
The longer they delayed, the slimmer their chances of survival.
"I'm afraid not. Her leg bones have only just been set. She can't handle intense movement yet. She needs at least a few hours to recover."
Helen shook her head gently. Then she took Gorgo's hand and looked back at the rescued women behind them, each pale and exhausted from the long, jarring journey.
"After two days and two nights of continuous travel, both the horses and the people have reached their limits. We really need to rest."
"That's true. We're only half a day away from the Areopagus now, and then we'll reach Athens. If we rush there at night, even if we make it to the Acropolis, they might not open the gates…"
Samael glanced around and instinctively chimed in.
But the moment the words left his mouth, he realized he had said too much. He cleared his throat and turned his head away.
"You should rest here for now. I'll go gather some firewood nearby and cook up something warm. It'll help with hunger and recovery."
"Lord Ezio, I'll come help!"
At the mention of "lighting a fire" and "cooking," the pink-haired girl perked up instantly, like a wound springing into motion. Her drowsiness vanished as her golden eyes lit up. Without hesitation, she grabbed Samael's arm and happily followed along.
As her soft body pressed against him, sending a dangerously pleasant sensation up his arm, Samael cast a sideways glance at the pronounced curves beneath her loose clothing. He swallowed the refusal on his lips and, naturally… leaned a little closer.
As the two figures gradually disappeared into the distance, Helen gazed into the dark night ahead, then turned slightly toward Gorgo, speaking in a low, thoughtful voice.
"This outsider… don't you think he's a little too familiar with Greece's terrain and city-states?"
"What are you suggesting? That he means us harm?"
Gorgo hesitated, her hand instinctively moving toward her sword and shield.
"Not exactly. With his strength, if he intended to harm us, he would have acted long ago. We wouldn't have been able to resist."
Helen shook her head lightly, calming the overly tense Spartan queen. She then looked toward the direction of Athens, her brows knitting slightly as a trace of confusion appeared on her beautiful face.
"It's just… he feels strangely familiar. As if I've seen him somewhere before."
A moment later, she shook her head again, dismissing the thought.
"Never mind. It's probably just my imagination. As long as he escorts us safely into Athens by tomorrow morning, none of this will matter."
Gorgo nodded slightly. She stood up, began distributing dry rations and water, and organized the women to take turns standing guard.
It had to be said that, as the Queen of Sparta, without Leonidas by her side, Gorgo instead showed a strong and capable side, managing this hastily assembled group of women with surprising efficiency.
Meanwhile, deep within the forest, Samael ran into a rather unexpected problem.
He had been… lured away.