The night passed in tension for both sides.
Tagus was waiting for the attack plan to unfold step by step, while Brand was worried about his ability to manage time. Madara's army and the eleven young people of Buqi advanced in the silent darkness simultaneously, their fates distant yet closely intertwined.
But the Sun was destined to rise day after day. The first ray of light seemed to just graze their hair, yet the morning quickly passed by, and half of the daylight went by peacefully without even encountering the area's most common brown bears.
However, after entering summer, even the wild brown bears had become gentle creatures.
It was noon.
Hearing the 'rustle' of someone pushing through the bushes up ahead, Brand couldn't help but squint his eyes. Sunlight shone through the new green leaves, creating a beautiful mosaic of golden fragments amid the gaps. He lifted his head from the makeshift stretcher, and a bright reflection, like a mirror, met his eyes.
A lake.
Like a green gemstone embedded at the foot of the mountainous Chongshan and the forest, the lake glistened with ripples of shimmering light.
"Look, it's a lake!" Little Phenix exclaimed in delight.
Frey immediately rewarded him with a flick to the head, causing the boy to yelp.
It was not the best season for traveling, and each of them needed to be cautious, as it was uncertain whether they might encounter Madara's army nearby. Despite the tranquil night, Brand had mentioned it was due to the area lacking strategic value.
As for what strategic value meant, the girl did not know.
The young man from Brags always seemed to know a bit more than anyone else. Though she felt somewhat begrudged, she could only accept it.
She wondered if every young man from the city was as outstanding as he.
Subtly, Frey's perception shifted from one extreme to another. She couldn't help feeling a bit jealous, thinking that if she had also been trained at the Brags Militia Training Camp, she would certainly surpass that shameless fellow.
It seemed unfair.
But only the heavens knew, there was no such thing as the 'Brags Militia Training Camp'. Sophie, no, Brand. His militia training was completed in Drage. Of course, he would never expose this ruse at this time, as he needed to maintain some authority to ensure these young people would follow him—an aimless group without a leader could never escape adversity.
Frey might be fit for the position in the future, but not now.
Thinking of this, Brand glanced at her. The ponytailed girl was assessing the surroundings, hesitating for a moment before finally loosening her grip on the sword and exhaling.
"Rest here for a while." Only after confirming no danger, Frey issued the command.
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"I'm exhausted!"
"I bet as soon as we get to Ridenburg, I'm falling asleep, no matter what."
"If we make it there,"
"Essen, shut your Crow's Beak—!" Conversations broke out between the young people on the edge of the forest, voices deliberately kept low, but with a clear sense of venting their pent-up emotions.
Everyone was too exhausted.
A night might not seem long, but the tension made it an ordeal. Ordinary people could barely imagine the pressure in moments of life and death—the group navigated mountain forests under dim starlight, surrounded by pitch-dark darkness, with only the synchronized sound of insects' wings and the distant calls of night owls piercing the forest.
In the dark, the rustling sounds seemed to pass through patches of bushes, and an unspoken silence enveloped everyone like an invisible ghost clenching at their hearts, the chill making their nerves taut.
Behind the dense foliage, there's always an unknown; have you heard of the mountain monsters from bedtime stories?
At sunrise, as the cold dew gradually dissipated, the young ones looked as if they were pulled from water, faces pale, hair clinging damply to their foreheads. Even Brand was no exception—he used to sleep in his safe bed, away from conflict—not lying on a stretcher, listening to all sorts of strange noises around him.
Especially in the unknown darkness, with waist-high grass occasionally brushing against your face, the feeling of some unknown insect crawling on your neck was truly spine-chilling.