0140 The Unlucky Wounded Man

Mou Mou let out a silent groan of agony into the air, her face contorted into a grimace so tight a mosquito could have been crushed in its creases. Although she knew full well that she had lured the massive beast deep into the forest using a scent she had specifically concocted, she felt it was best to remain as quiet and low-profile as possible, just to be safe.

Struggling to circulate the meager amount of magical energy left in her body, Mou Mou continued to suppress her presence, fearful of leaking even a trace. She rested in the dirt pit for a while to recover her strength, and only after ensuring she was sufficiently clear-headed did she slowly pull herself upright and stand. Every bruise on her body shrieked that she was falling apart, but not even the threat of her limbs coming loose could deter her from the resolve to climb out of the hole. After much thrashing and scrambling, she finally managed to haul herself out, rolling over to sit on the grass where she could finally breathe fresh air.

"Ouch, damn it. Digging holes is a hazard," she muttered to herself as she emerged. "Digging deep holes is even worse—not only do you bury yourself, but you have to drag someone else down with you." As she spoke, she glanced back at the pit with a speechless expression. Under her gaze, the clump of dirt she had used as a makeshift cushion shyly cracked open. Amidst a clattering sound, the peaceful, sleeping face of Huan Luo slowly emerged from the shifting earth.

Although Mou Mou had rescued Huan Luo from the fire, the emergency had been so dire that she had only been able to use room-temperature earth elements to protect Huan Luo's body and prevent the burns from worsening while she pulled her to safety. There had been no time to assess the severity of the wounds, let alone provide first aid.

Pulling Huan Luo from the pit, Mou Mou took all the burn ointment and bandages from their shared pack, silently wrapping her companion until she resembled a mummy. The entire supply of ointment intended for both of them had been exhausted in one go. Neither of them had expected that, in a forest where fires rarely started, they would be "burned before their campaign even began." It was truly a stroke of terrible luck; one might even suspect that Huan Luo, a great general of the White Tower Kingdom, had offended some deity. She was constantly getting injured or flying into a rage—a walking, ticking time bomb who seemed to enjoy blowing herself up for fun.

It was an undeniable fact that the medical conditions in this godforsaken forest were abysmal, and the idea of taking Huan Luo back was a fantasy. Mou Mou had no choice but to shoulder her miserable, wounded companion and embark on a blind journey. Why blind? Because the fire-breathing beast had accidentally incinerated all of their maps.

Traveling by night in a forest teeming with magical beasts, monsters, and whatever unknown night-stalkers might exist was perilous. Especially for a party consisting of a mage with an empty mana pool and a wounded warrior—it was practically a death wish. In this context, the two concepts were virtually synonymous. Yet, remaining in one place offered no guarantee that the beast wouldn't circle back after failing to find them. Sitting and waiting for death was clearly not the style of a protagonist, so she resolutely hoisted Huan Luo onto her back and began searching for a temporary shelter in the pitch blackness.

Feeling her way toward the lake she remembered, she finally found a grove filled with small insects and creatures. Most were herbivores, requiring no vigilance as long as they weren't provoked. Furthermore, based on Mou Mou’s own deductions, the quieter a place was, the more thoroughly it had been scoured by large predators, whereas a lively area suggested it hadn't been ravaged yet. While it would eventually become a buffet for some predator, at least for now, no magical beast had discovered it.

If they were to be ambushed immediately after arriving, it could only mean that she and Huan Luo were simply ill-fated and fundamentally at odds with the forest.

Mou Mou decided to settle down in this unexpectedly reassuring, albeit noisy, spot. She hadn't managed to find a cave or an abandoned temple like the protagonists in novels—places perfect for dodging the elements, developing illicit romances, or stumbling upon a beauty—but she was lucky enough to find two "emergency wilderness hammocks" in their surviving pack. Well, they were called hammocks, but compared to the refined ones she had seen in the modern world, they were little more than large nets woven from rope.

Mou Mou looked awkwardly at the nets she had tied to the trees, then at the still-unconscious Huan Luo. She had no choice but to offer her own coat to make the wounded woman comfortable, while she herself miserably began to cultivate atop the other net. There was no help for it; in this two-person team, she was the only one capable of combat.

As it turned out, the theory that "sharpening one's sword at the last minute is better than nothing" held true. The next morning, Mou Mou opened her eyes feeling the wonderful sensation of magical energy filling her body. If she ignored the intense exhaustion from pulling an all-nighter, her state could be described as "at her peak." Unfortunately, the exhaustion couldn't be ignored, and there were no stalls in the forest selling stimulants. Looking helplessly at the heavily wounded woman beside her, Mou Mou dragged her weary body off the net and began scouring the forest for supplies.

Although they still had some dry rations left, all the burn ointment had been used the previous day. She had to find a substitute before Huan Luo woke up in agony. Casting a lingering, worried look at her companion, Mou Mou traced a hovering magic circle above Huan Luo to mask her human scent and the thick smell of blood. She even added a small marker to the circle, just in case the concealment was so effective that she wouldn't be able to find her way back.

Constantly glancing back at the soundly sleeping Huan Luo, Mou Mou slowly departed from the camp she had found just the night before. There was a saying that where there is poison, there is an antidote nearby. Based on this truth, she reasoned: the lair of a fire-breathing beast must contain a secret remedy for burns. And so, she began to cautiously grope her way back toward the direction of the previous night's ambush.