Luo Ge left in a hurry.
He barely packed his bags. After saying goodbye to Gal last night, he returned to his lodgings with only two sets of clothes, a bag of dry food, and the map of the Red Dragon Mountains that he kept close to his body.
Then, before dawn, he led his horse and left through the side gate of the Sanctum.
No one was alerted, not even Nina.
It wasn't that he was intentionally avoiding it, but the uneasy premonition in his heart was growing stronger. The longer it dragged on, the more changes might happen on Buena's side.
He couldn't wait for those formalities.
The horse he rode was one of the best in the Sanctum stables, with amazing speed, but even so, Luo Ge still traveled day and night.
They galloped during the day and rested for only two hours at night, barely closing their eyes, both man and horse.
After more than a month, the horse had visibly lost weight, its mouth was foaming at the corners, and its four legs were trembling as if they were about to fall apart.
When they reached the foot of the mountain with the Red Dragon's Upper Jaw, Luo Ge glanced at the undulating, snow-covered ridgeline ahead, then deftly dismounted, patted the mane on the horse's neck, and casually tossed the reins aside.
"Good brother! You've had a tough time. Go find somewhere to survive."
The horse stood there panting for a while before turning around and limping away along the way it had come from.
Luo Ge slung the Elegant Dragon Sword around his waist and stepped into the vast snowstorm ahead without looking back.
Winter in the Red Dragon's Upper Jaw is far more brutal than on the coast of the Sword Sanctum.
The heavy snow fell thick and fast, turning everything into a white expanse, making it impossible to see a person more than three steps away.
The wind, carrying ice shards, lashed at my face, stinging like needles.
Luo Ge walked quickly, his feet sinking into the knee-deep snow, each step steady.
He knew this road very well.
He walked that path once when he was five years old.
Or rather, it was a journey he most wanted to forget in his life, yet could never forget.
As they passed through a treacherous mountain pass, Luo Ge's pace suddenly slowed for a moment.
His gaze fell on a cliff face not far to his right.
There is still an extremely deep crack on that rock face, splitting from the top of the cliff all the way to the bottom, wide enough for a person to squeeze in sideways.
The stone at the edge of the crack had an unnatural charred black color, as if it had been scorched by something at an extremely high temperature.
Those are traces left after the battle with the Dragon God.
Luo Ge glanced at it once before looking away. Although five years had passed since the wound on the rock was discovered, the lingering scent still made him instinctively tense the muscles in his back.
But he didn't stop, didn't pause to reminisce, and didn't even glance at it again.
Without the slightest hesitation, he passed beneath the cliff, pulled his collar tighter, and continued walking forward.
Now is not the time for reminiscing.
What he didn't know was that in the same snowstorm, on a mountain path just a few miles away from him...
Another group of people is going through a completely different and arduous struggle.
Ariel! Please step back!
The one who shouted was a young swordsman, about sixteen or seventeen years old. His face still had some boyishness, but his hand holding the sword was very steady, and his eyes revealed a fierceness far beyond his age.
His name is Luke, and he is a guardian knight of Ariel, Intermediate Swordsman.
Behind him stood a blonde girl dressed in luxurious clothes, with an extremely beautiful face.
Centered around her, she was surrounded by three or four guards in layers.
Her golden hair fluttered in the wind and snow, with fine snowflakes clinging to it. Her face was extremely beautiful, her features so exquisite that she seemed not to belong to this world.
Even with his hair disheveled, clothes stained with mud, and a grime mark on his face, he still exuded an air of nobility that emanated from his very being.
Ariel Anemoi Asura, the second princess of the Asura Kingdom.
She is third in line to the throne and the only daughter of the first queen.
Her face looked terrible, and her lips were purple from the cold, but she still managed to hold back from letting out a cry of alarm.
The fleeing group has dwindled from the initial eighteen to the current five, but the mercenary assassins behind them are like a persistent leech that they can't shake off.
Three days ago, they had just killed a group of pursuers at Dragon's Whiskers Mouth, the border of the Asura Kingdom.
But as soon as she rounded a bend in the mountain pass, another group of assassins caught up with her, relentlessly pursuing and attacking the fleeing princess.
" Luke! To the left!"
A deep shout came from the side of the group.
The speaker was a white-haired boy wearing sunglasses. He was slender and short, holding a short cane in one hand while rapidly unleashing wind magic with the other.
Almost as soon as the words were spoken, an invisible wall of energy swept out from the left side of the group, forcefully knocking back three steps the three rushing assassins.
Silent Fitz.
The Guardian Warlock, who recently joined the team, possesses a talent for casting spells without incantation, which is extremely rare throughout the entire Asura Kingdom.
If it weren't for this magician, the team would probably have been wiped out long ago.
Even with her there, the situation remained perilous.
There were far too many assassins; they kept pouring down from both sides of the snow slopes, a dark mass of heads, probably more than twenty.
Luke fought desperately in front of them, already cutting down four, but the wounds on his arms kept increasing.
"Damn it..."
Luke gritted his teeth, pulling the blade from an assassin's shoulder, blood splattering half his face. " Fitz! Take the princess and retreat first! I'll cover you!"
"Let's go together!"
Ariel's voice came from behind, trembling yet resolute, clenched through gritted teeth.
"Your Highness--!"
In the instant Luke turned his head in distraction, an assassin pounced from his blind spot, the tip of his blade aimed straight for his ribs.
Luke's pupils contracted; it was too late to dodge.
Then he saw a sword.
To be precise, he only saw the afterimage left by the sword light as it sliced through the air.
It's incredibly fast.
A sword, thrust diagonally from the side, sliced across the assassin's neck as nimbly as cutting tofu.
The person was still charging forward, but their head flew off first, and the spurting blood mist was swept away by the wind and snow, turning into pink ice shards.
The assassin staggered forward two more steps before collapsing to the ground with a thud.
Everyone in the room was stunned.
Luke abruptly turned his head to look in the direction from which the sword light had come.
Amidst the wind and snow, a figure slowly approached, carrying a sword.
He was not tall, clearly just a teenager, dressed in very thin clothes, strolling leisurely, his steps as unhurried as if he were taking a walk in his own backyard.