The beige bandages stained with blood were wrapped around the abdomen, arms, and thighs, and the freshly cleaned longsword was already sheathed, resting gently by her side.
Margaret huddled by the campfire, holding a cup of tea with floating leaves that exuded a refreshing aroma. The rising steam enveloped her face, still stained with mud and dried blood, making her appear more dazed.
At this moment, she seemed no longer the captain with considerable authority, always calm, as if everything was under control.
Just an ordinary adventurer who barely survived from the clutches of vicious demons.
Even now, she still could not grasp the reality of everything that had happened earlier.
Clearly, what should have been the most ordinary investigation mission resulted in the loss of two precious teammates, and the enemy they faced was unexpectedly a Great Devil, likely from the Bator Nine Prisons.
