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Most were at the limits of their physical and emotional endurance, and while they had managed to hold on without issue initially, a brief rest had almost instantaneously allowed exhaustion to overwhelm them.

Sighs, crying, and complaints intermittently arose from around, the jungle ahead completely dark and lightless, like a tunnel leading to a bottomless underground. The escapees could only move forward, guided by the memories in Byrne’s head, silently hoping for light at the end of the darkness.

Chris, who kept moving forward, suddenly stopped and looked down at his feet where an insect, accidentally crushed underfoot, had its juices splattered all over the ground.

“What’s wrong?” his sister Irene whispered gently beside him.

Chris shook his head, said nothing in response, and continued to follow the group.

“It’s okay, we’ll definitely be fine.”

Irene took a deep breath, one hand tightly clutching a transparent bottle, while the other comforted her brother Chris.

She had thought Chris would be afraid, trembling just like the other children, but the young boy with silvery-white hair simply followed the group in silence, not uttering a word from the beginning to the end.

He seemed to be the only person in the fleeing group who wasn’t nervous.

Irene always felt she knew her brother best, yet sometimes she thought Chris was a bit too “mature”.

Some might even say that Chris seemed somewhat emotionally lacking, but Irene deeply despised such a statement—it was as if they were calling her brother handicapped.

He was just precocious and quiet.

“Irene.”

Old Ramon came over. As the pace of the group had slowed, Old Ramon, who still had enough strength, insisted on walking on his own and didn’t want to be carried by his son anymore.

He looked at Irene who had grown up, thinking that if his granddaughter could’ve grown up, she might have been just as beautiful as Irene.

“Irene, I know how cruel and terrifying the Rhea people can be. I’ve dealt with these bastards decades ago.”

“Mhm.”

Irene nodded. The once somewhat senile Old Ramon was now extraordinarily lucid.

His calm eyes gazing into the darkness held determination and weight as he continued, “But let’s not kid ourselves, we Cyart people aren’t exactly saints either. You must be careful.”

“War is a game for the nobility; it’s usually the poor folks’ children who die while the nobles hardly ever kill each other.”

“One day, if you want to transition from being a pawn in their game to a player, you must find a way to become a noble.”

War is but a game for the nobles, and the children of the poor are the ones who die, Irene reflected thoughtfully.

Old Ramon fell silent for a while, then added, “Hugh actually has a son, my grandson, who was raised in his uncle’s home in a nearby village.”

Irene nodded again, initially thinking the old man would make some request about his grandson, but the conversation ended abruptly. Old Ramon fell silent and kept muttering to himself.

Lucius, leading the group, was deep in thought, desiring to know how the Rhea people had cheated, for only then could the Fischer family be entirely safe.

How exactly had they discovered our fleeing group? Did the Rhea troops target everyone or just a specific person or item?

Prophecy-type spells?

It was very possible. Lucius knew that prophecy-type spellcasters were extremely rare but they did exist, and perhaps the Rhea had used a prophecy-type spell to learn about the entire fleeing group.

But was that the answer?

He frowned tightly, not understanding the specific workings of prophecy-type spells and thus unable to fully assess the overall situation.

It seemed that everyone was gradually approaching the edge of the dark forest, and the sky was also slowly brightening, no longer the pitch-black path where one couldn’t see their own hand in front of them.

Everyone’s spirits lifted slightly—the most dangerous moment had completely passed.

Finally, the light of Dawn illuminated the jungle, and the reflection of the snow brightened the surroundings, filling everyone’s heart with the joy of relief.

Lucius couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he patted Byrne’s shoulder and said,

“Let’s not leave the jungle just yet, I’ll go ahead and scout the situation. Let’s rest here for thirty minutes.”

The air around was still exceedingly cold, but the light had completely driven away the darkness, and deep in Lucius’s heart, he couldn’t suppress the feeling of joy at having escaped to safety!

We survived!

However, not long after Lucius had left, a warning from the great Lord of the Lost emerged in the deepest recesses of his mind.

The message contained within that great will was… not to move forward carelessly, there were enemies ahead!

Lucius was shocked as he gazed towards the bright exit of the jungle, falling into a long silence.

——

Karl’s intangible consciousness rose high, centering on the transparent bottle in Irene’s hand as he looked around, and quickly spotted an entire troop of Cyart cavalry waiting outside the jungle ahead.

Behind them, in several directions, hundreds of Cyart infantry were also advancing slowly, holding flintlocks and gradually enclosing on their position.

He was acutely aware that if things continued this way, the people of the Fischer family would be completely captured.

Karl’s consciousness leapt a great distance to near the cavalry unit, which totaled only a hundred riders – not many – among which only three were Extraordinary Exponents who possessed different Knight Bequests.

The leader was none other than the black armored knight who had led the charge the day before.

Under the black helmet visor was the serious face of a middle-aged man, with a full head of red hair. His demeanor was entirely different from the surrounding cavalry, undoubtedly a true noble.

The entire situation was nearly hopeless.

They faced a blockage ahead and pursuers behind, and it seemed as if the Cyart could unpredictably pinpoint their location.

Karl immediately relayed the information back to the three members of the Fischer family.

“These Cyart people have really ‘cheated’ through and through.”

Lucius took a deep breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of powerlessness as sweat slowly trickled down his back, even experiencing a sense of déjà vu.

The current predicament was like the one from years ago, when he had encountered that giant black dragon—a gamble at every step, where one wrong move could mean no burial for the dead.

The immense pressure felt like an invisible force, continuously and tightly constricting Lucius’s mental and physical being, making it hard for him to breathe.

Lucius closed his eyes and bowed his head with genuine devotion, slowly speaking:

“Great Lord of the Lost, I pray to you.”

“I sincerely ask that you protect all members of the Fischer family.”

“Next, I will lead away the cavalry troop up ahead, please allow the rest of the family to immediately pass the road ahead, without the slightest delay.”

Lucius seemed to be talking to himself, but in fact, he was speaking to the Lord of the Lost.

His speed of movement was undoubtedly the fastest among them all, with the most abundant stamina and combat ability that went without saying.

If that cavalry unit directly engaged the people of the Fischer family, it would be over for everyone, so he had to lead them away himself.

Lucius did not look back but went alone, sword in hand, actively seeking out the cavalry unit.

He believed the great Lord of the Lost was protecting the Fischer family and would definitely convey his thoughts to Byrne and Irene.

The next thing to do was to briefly distract the cavalry unit, then try to survive. Although it was undoubtedly an extremely difficult and dangerous action, Lucius knew it was another deadly gamble he couldn’t escape, similar to the one from years ago.

Only this time, the “chips” on the perilous gamble were not just the important people beside him, but also himself!