Chapter 775

They crouched silently in the bushes, breathing as lightly as possible, not daring to make the slightest sound.

When the shrill howls of the wolves finally faded into the distance, Samar pulled out a tin flask and handed it over. Duke Giles took it and greedily gulped down the water inside. The liquid ran from the corners of his cracked lips into his collar, leaving dark stains on his clothes.

Windell whispered, "We should still be thirty miles from the Safe Point."

Samar asked, "The Safe Point? Are you sure it's safe? What if the Northerners' soldiers have gotten ahead of us?"

Windell removed his glasses and wiped the condensation from the lenses with his clothes. "Of course, that's assuming the Royal Army's hunting dogs haven't blocked Mountain Pass. Otherwise, we'll have no choice but to take a much longer route through the mountains."

His words left everyone somewhat dejected.

Samar was just about to speak when Duke Giles suddenly covered his mouth.

Danger had come once again.

The mountain wind carried intermittent sounds toward them. The nearest disturbance was less than a hundred paces from the rocky crevice where they were hiding. Samar felt the calluses on the duke's palm, hardened by years of fencing, scrape his lips raw. The taste of blood mixed with the smell of dirt flooded his mouth.

He saw the deadly creature ahead—a powerful Black-Spotted Mountain Tiger sniffing around the ground.

The southern climate was ideal for vegetation, providing herbivores with abundant food. The herbivores, in turn, supported large numbers of carnivores, causing the food chain to extend layer after layer. Thus, the ecosystem in the mountain forests was remarkably rich. Besides wolves and jackals, large beasts of prey were also common.

Under normal circumstances, Giles would have been delighted to see such a