Although Prince Damien of Southlyn repeatedly emphasized that Serena Feng was no ordinary woman—she was even more cunning and treacherous than most men—he still inevitably overlooked certain details. In some situations, he still treated Serena as just a woman, not a true opponent.
As for those monsters, it goes without saying—in their eyes, Serena Feng was at most a clever and bold woman. They never saw her as a real adversary; to them, she was simply Ninth Royal Uncle’s woman. No matter how capable a woman was, she couldn’t overturn the heavens.
Such carelessness and negligence could be fatal.
When Prince Damien, full of pride, charged ahead on horseback, trying to drag Serena Feng behind him like a criminal, he suddenly realized there was nothing behind him. The horse galloped forward with an almost weightless grace.
“Where is she?” Prince Damien pulled on the reins. The monsters ahead, confused, stopped one after another and turned their horses around.
“What happe—” The last two words died on their lips, turning into a shocked "O."
“Where’s Serena Feng?” The white-robed monster jumped off his horse and pulled up the rope behind Prince Damien’s horse. The knot was still there, and there were bloodstains on the rope—but where was the person?
“Damn it, she got away.” Prince Damien didn’t need to think to know he’d fallen for Serena Feng’s tricks yet again. His expression was as ugly as could be.
“Enough, forget it—we need to focus on escaping!” The white-robed monster was deeply dissatisfied. If Prince Damien hadn’t insisted on tormenting Serena Feng, she wouldn’t have had the chance to escape.
To let a hostage escape from right under their noses—this was truly humiliating.
The white-robed monster was so frightened he didn’t dare make a sound, but he also didn’t dare stray too far from Prince Damien. He wasn’t a coward by nature, but at this moment, Prince Damien was terrifying—enough to make him feel as if he was facing his own master.
No wonder his master chose this man. The white-robed monster didn’t dare mock Prince Damien again. Only after Damien’s breathing calmed did he speak respectfully, “Your Highness, we should move.”
Prince Damien’s expression softened a little. He nodded to the white-robed man, spurred his horse forward, and carefully avoided the rain of arrows from both sides. But after only a few steps, they ran into someone up ahead.
“The road ahead is blocked—we can’t get through!” The newcomer shouted urgently, both anxious and angry.
“What now?” The white-robed monster looked to Prince Damien. This time, Damien was calm: “Don’t panic. The Si Clan’s Divine Archers are limited in number. Even if the commander brought them all, they can only ambush us along one stretch of road. We’ll head into the woods—once inside, archers lose their advantage.”
To avoid Ninth Royal Uncle, they’d taken a side path, bordered by low woods. Danger lurked in the trees, but it was better than being trapped here.
With the road blocked ahead and archers closing in behind, the woods were their only choice. The white-robed monster had no better idea: “Let’s split up. The forest is big—harder for them to find us.”
“Agreed. We’ll meet at the usual spot.” Prince Damien abandoned his horse and ran left; the white-robed monster followed, while the others scattered in pairs, some left, some right.
With nowhere else to go, hiding in the woods seemed safest. But Prince Damien forgot just how many troops Ninth Royal Uncle had brought to Night City.
Fifty thousand soldiers!
Ninth Royal Uncle’s forces were overwhelming. Unless it was a vast, wild forest, it didn’t matter where Prince Damien hid—Ninth Royal Uncle could send men to find him.
“They’re here.” High in a tree, the Si commander watched shadows slip into the woods and licked his lips. His arrows never missed—except for Ninth Royal Uncle, no one had ever dodged them. These four would be no exception.
Three black-shafted arrows lay hidden beneath dead leaves, their tips tracking the four as they moved...
Speed, wind—he couldn’t afford to miss a single detail!
The Si commander was a patient hunter. He never fired unless he was absolutely sure, and when he did, he never disappointed himself.
That time Ninth Royal Uncle dodged his arrow, he hadn’t been disappointed either.
He was too far away to see the four’s faces, but he didn’t care. As long as he brought everyone in the woods back, that was enough.
Ten, nine... five...
The four drew closer to his shooting range. The Si commander’s breathing grew so faint it was barely audible.
Three, two...
He counted silently. When he reached one, the arrow flew with a whoosh—so fast it seemed like an illusion.
“Watch out, it’s an ambush!”
The arrows were blindingly fast—ten times faster than those outside. They watched, helpless, as the arrows shot toward them, unable to dodge.
Closer and closer—the black arrowheads tore through their clothes, piercing them mercilessly.
“Ugh...” The first to be struck was flung aside, spitting blood. The other three fared no better—one arrow even pinned two people together, locking them tight.
Three arrows fired in quick succession, but they landed staggered—no room to dodge. Three arrows for four people wasn’t the Si commander’s best record, but when he walked over to inspect his ‘prey,’ the young marshal smiled with satisfaction.
As expected... Warren Yu was his lucky charm. The more misfortune Warren suffered, the luckier he got—every task in Night City had gone off perfectly.
Satisfied with his work, the Si commander signaled his men to drag the captives away. Elsewhere, Logan Ling was already playing cat-and-mouse in the woods with other fleeing enemies...
“If we don’t catch Prince Damien this time, we’ll let Felix Fuller’s sacrifice go to waste.” Serena Feng stood atop a high vantage point, gazing into the distance...
Lance Quinn, I’ve avenged half your blood-debt. The rest will be settled soon.
The wind swept over the battlefield, carrying the scent of blood and gunpowder. Night City’s fate would be decided here.
In the woods, the Si Clan’s Eighteen Riders moved like shadows, methodically rounding up the last fugitives.
Logan Ling caught up with a wounded enemy, coldly pinning him to the ground. “You can’t escape.”
The enemy struggled, but Logan’s grip was merciless.
Elsewhere, Sean Xuan led a squad to intercept another group, cutting off their retreat.
The woods echoed with shouts and the clash of blades, but the outcome was never in doubt.
With the fugitives captured, the Si commander gave the order: “Sweep the forest—leave no one behind.”
The Eighteen Riders fanned out, their discipline and coordination flawless.
Serena Feng watched from above, her eyes cold and determined. This time, she would not let Prince Damien slip away.
The hunt was nearly over. Night City’s fate—and Prince Damien’s—would soon be sealed.