When he walked out of the cave, two trembling women were kneeling at the entrance, the entire bandit stronghold was filled with corpses, not a single one of the twenty-two robbers was left alive.
"Release those three farmers."
"Find a stretcher somehow, you all come with me."
Duncan pulled the arrows from the bodies, drenched in blood as if a war god emerged from hell. He grabbed a worn bandit coat from the wooden hut, donned it, and led five trembling farmers to the rendezvous point.
The sky lightened.
A faint glimmer of morning appeared in the distance.
"Who?!"
Anya, who had kept vigil all night, drowsy, sprang to alert, drawing her sword at the sound.
Duncan’s deep, raspy voice emerged from the darkness: "It’s me."
Crow Queen - Triss opened her eyes, their sapphire glow reflecting a brilliant light, watching the man slowly emerge from the darkness.
Duncan, though changed his clothes, his scent of blood was overwhelming.
He nodded slightly towards Crow Queen - Triss, his voice hoarse: "I’m back."
No need for words.
Crow Queen - Triss gazed at the man before her, a peerless smile appearing, her eyes radiant as stars.
She never once doubted Duncan would abandon them.
The three farmers, along with Duncan, carefully lifted the stretcher, carrying the intermittently conscious Severus towards the bandit stronghold. The slave woman willingly supported the weak Triss, while the farmwoman, attempting to offer help, was shunned by Anya with a look of disdain.
Finally, by morning, the group returned to the stronghold.
Triss gazed at the corpses littering the stronghold, silent for a long time, occasionally glancing towards Duncan ahead.
Anya was shocked.
She knew Duncan was powerful, but never imagined he could single-handedly annihilate the entire bandit stronghold despite his severe wounds.
This noblewoman’s eyes sparkled, stealing a glance at Triss, then shifting her gaze to Duncan not far away, her thoughts unknown.
Duncan was too exhausted.
After settling Severus into a warm wooden hut, he finally allowed his human form in the projection to fall asleep.
In this battle, he fought with every ounce of strength, utterly spent.
.........