The soldier on watch duty came running in quick steps to the front of Maggie’s tent in the camp, reporting loudly.
“Report! Something’s wrong! Something is rapidly approaching our camp!”
Maggie’s heart instantly sank, and she asked in a deep voice, “Is it insects?”
“No, it’s not! It’s some huge creature! Probably a wild beast, or maybe a magical beast.” Beads of sweat dripped steadily from the soldier’s face to the ground.
“Let’s go! Take me to see it!”
Maggie waved her hand, leading the soldier out of her tent, grabbed a Battle Horse, mounted in one fluid motion, and gestured for the soldier to ride closely behind her.
They had only ridden a short distance when Maggie could already faintly hear the thunderous rumble of some gigantic beast pounding across the land.
Bathed in the glow of sunset, she saw a cloud of dust rising at the edge of her vision, steadily approaching her and the camp.
With just one glance, Maggie knew exactly what it was.
“It’s a Tundra Direwolf!”
But it wasn’t just a Tundra Direwolf; although its limbs were thick and strong, they couldn’t possibly kick up such a massive dust cloud—there must be something else.
“And there’s something behind it!”
Maggie gripped the reins with one hand, squeezed her knees against the Battle Horse, and with her other hand, drew the greatsword from her back, dragging it along the ground as the horse accelerated. Gathering all her strength, she charged straight at the dark green Direwolf, which was over four meters long.
Just as Maggie raised her greatsword, about to strike down, the Direwolf suddenly twisted its body, circling around in a huge arc, dodging Maggie’s attack range.
The Battle Horse and the Direwolf brushed past each other, and Maggie finally had the chance to see what was behind the Direwolf.
Several immensely thick vines were tied around the Direwolf, the other ends fastened to a two or three meter long, sharp black conical ore, on which faint dark patterns could be seen.
But none of this was enough to surprise Maggie.
The most astonishing thing was that on top of the conical ore sat a strange, human-like figure with messy hair, wearing only a filthy vest and a pair of ragged pants whose original form was no longer recognizable, both clothes soaked in green and red juices.
From the figure’s outline, one could barely make out the graceful shape of a woman.
It was this person who controlled the Tundra Direwolf, and by the look of her, she was not some savage from an uncivilized tribe, but someone with intelligence.
However, this person—let’s call her a person for now—was headed straight for the camp, and her target seemed to be Maggie’s team. Maggie absolutely couldn’t let her guard down.
“You…” Maggie steadied her breathing, turned her horse, gripped her greatsword tightly, and was preparing to negotiate with the other.
“General Maggie! I finally found you!”
The figure cried out excitedly, then leapt down from the strange chunk of ore.
Hearing that voice, Maggie couldn’t help but be stunned. She blurted out the name that surfaced in her mind, words that shouldn’t have been spoken escaping her lips in surprise.
“Lita? Aren’t you dead?”
Lita was already standing in front of Maggie, her dirty face—one Maggie would never mistake—written with shock.
“Dead? Who’s been saying I died?”
“It’s nothing, as long as you’re alive, but… what happened to you…” Seeing Lita in such a sorry state, Maggie wasn’t entirely sure this was really Lita.
But if something else had disguised itself as Lita, it wouldn’t have concocted such a bizarre and suspicious scene.
“It’s a long story, let’s go back to camp first.” Lita walked up to the Tundra Direwolf, patted its head, and the Direwolf obediently lowered its head for her to stroke.
“What’s with this wolf?”
Watching Lita rub the Direwolf’s head and ears as it looked completely content, Maggie grew even more perplexed.
“Maybe it’s because I’m a Disney Princess?”
“What ‘ney’? What Princess?”
“Never mind.” Lita couldn’t possibly say she’d tricked the wolf with her dream demon powers; even if she wanted to explain, there was just too much. So she brushed it off, “Anyway, it’s my newly acquired treasure companion. I’ll have it return soon.”
“Then what is it dragging?” Maggie stared for a long time but couldn’t figure out what the huge cone actually was, though it seemed vaguely familiar.
“It’s the Claw of the Night Sovereign. I broke one off and brought it back. My sword was shattered by this thing. It feels pretty rare, maybe it’ll fetch a good price?” Lita answered.
Cecilia heard a commotion, growing from far to near, outside her tent.
“It’s worthless? How so? I went out of my way to catch… invite my dear animal companion to haul it back!”
“Its size is too large; as a collector’s item, it’s not very meaningful. Although it’s very dense, it’s also very brittle. While it’s resistant to acid and high temperatures, that just makes it very difficult to process, and you can’t make much out of it. Spend a little more and you can get better materials…”
“Enough, enough! I don’t want to know! I really don’t want to know!”
This voice…
Cecilia wondered if she was hearing things, but she never doubted that voice for a second.
She stepped out of her tent, and was greeted by a scene entirely out of place in the camp.
A giant Direwolf, tied with several loops of vines, squatted nearby; a huge conical object lay on the ground, with a crowd gathered around, whispering about it.
And there was the filthy Lita, one foot atop the massive cone, animatedly arguing with Maggie, who held the reins of her horse.
Seeing that Lita wasn’t dead, Cecilia first felt a wave of relief.
Just as at Lita’s grave, when she had nothing to say, Cecilia now felt no particular emotion.
Because in her heart, there was always the premonition that Lita wouldn’t die so easily in a deserted place like this.
Then, Cecilia noticed Lita’s clothes, stained a motley mix of bug blood, her own blood, dirt, and plant juices, and couldn’t help but frown.
“Lita? What are you doing?”
The nearby soldiers immediately began whispering amongst themselves.
“How can you tell? I thought the General had brought back some tribal chieftain.”
“Nonsense, what chieftain wears leather armor? Besides, what do we know of Lita and Her Highness’s relationship?”
Their chatter continued, but Lita seemed not to notice, still loudly arguing her case.
“This is the Shell of the Night Sovereign! It’s super rare! I refuse to believe nobody would want it on the black market… No, wait, the black market’s gone… Anyway, it’s very rare! I’m not throwing it away!”
“Lita!” Cecilia raised her voice, drawing everyone’s attention to herself.
“Ah! Lady Cecilia!” Lita, as if seeing a savior, stepped down from the enormous shell.
“I told you it’s valuable, but they don’t believe me! Oh right, why didn’t you wait for me before leaving? And why did you stick my sword on a little grave? They’re even spreading rumors I’m dead! Isn’t that infuriating? Wait! Don’t tell me you thought I was dead too!”
Lita seemed unusually excited, like a child who’d just finished school and finally saw her mother, desperate to pour out everything on her mind.
Chattering away, without the slightest bit of courtesy or decorum.
But maybe that’s just as well; that’s how Lita should be.
“Um, Lady Cecilia?” Lita’s voice gradually softened, tentatively calling Cecilia’s name.
Cecilia glanced at the shell, then at the soldiers, all of whom had fallen silent and were watching her and Lita.
“The Shell of the Night Sovereign—you did well. If you can haul it back to Solus City yourself, I’ll pay a craftsman to work it for you.”
“It’s really heavy! Even my dear animal companion is exhausted, how am I supposed to carry it back myself?” Lita complained bitterly, pointing at the Tundra Direwolf squatting beside her like an oversized puppy.
Cecilia shot Lita a look, her eyes more reproachful than anything else, but not unkindly so.
“If you want to bargain, clean yourself up first. Look at you, filthy as anything. The camp’s not going anywhere. Get your wounds treated, change into clean clothes, and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Ah… okay, okay.” Lita scratched her head with a hand sticky from vine sap.
“Oh, one more thing.”
Cecilia stepped a little closer, raised her hand, and brushed aside the strands of silver hair stuck to Lita’s face, looking straight into her eyes.
“Welcome back.”