Ruthless, Serena’s Wounds Are Not for Outsiders to See

On the third day, just as the sun was setting, the two of them finally arrived at Easestream City.

Maybe it was thanks to Little White's speed, or maybe Dominic Zhai’s men were just that good at holding off troublemakers. Either way, apart from that batch of unlucky horse thieves, Serena Feng didn’t run into anyone looking for trouble. The few idiots who got ideas after seeing her face were quickly scared off by Felix Fuller.

Honestly, Felix Fuller wasn’t skilled enough yet to hide the aura of a top expert—his every move and look screamed ‘dangerous master.’ Ordinary people wouldn’t dare mess with him, and Serena was more than happy to have a free bodyguard.

Seeing the city gates about to close, Serena signaled Felix to speed up: “Let’s get inside and rest for the night before heading out again.” Rushing into the Grand Canyon at midnight was a good way to get killed—no matter how pressed for time, she couldn’t ignore her own safety.

She still needed to make it back alive—to apologize to Prince Nolan, to tell Lance Quinn she’d survived, so he wouldn’t have to worry.

"I can’t get into the city. I’ll wait for you outside and meet you here tomorrow morning," Felix said. He didn’t have an identity plaque or travel pass, so after running into that problem more than once, he knew the drill.

"Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered." Dominic Zhai was a good kid—besides arranging a travel pass for her, he’d also given her a Prince Samuel Manor token, so she could ask the authorities for help if needed. With that token, she could travel all over Eastlyn without fear.

Of course, she could use Prince Nolan’s token too, but that one was way too flashy—just waving it around would blind half the city. She preferred to keep a low profile.

But that little delay meant that by the time they reached the gate, it was just closing. Serena was left awkwardly standing there, so she pulled out the Prince Samuel Manor token and shouted at the guards: “Open the gate!”

"Who’s making a racket down there? The gates are closed. If you want in, come back tomorrow." The guards didn’t even look up—they were clearly used to this kind of thing.

"Forget it, let’s just stay outside the city—it’s all the same." Felix was used to wandering around city gates in foreign lands; he’d long gotten used to this kind of treatment.

"We need proper rest if we want the strength to save anyone." Serena didn’t tell Felix that after ten days of nonstop riding, the insides of her thighs were covered in wounds—nothing left intact. If she hadn’t treated herself ahead of time, and if her thermal gear wasn’t waterproof, Felix would have seen nothing but two bloody legs.

Felix had only been riding for three days, but she’d ridden for ten—the horror of those wounds was something only she knew.

"Whatever you want." Felix didn’t push the issue. After three days on horseback, even he was exhausted—never mind Serena, who’d been traveling for days before that. Looking at her, he could tell she really needed a break.

Seeing Felix agree, Serena raised her voice and announced: “On official business for Prince Samuel Manor—open the gate!”

She’d spent three days with Felix and hadn’t found a chance to treat the wounds on her thighs. Now that she could finally get into the city, she was determined to take care of them—otherwise, her legs would rot for sure. And even if that didn’t happen, it wouldn’t be good if William saw her injuries.

Her legs hurt so much they’d gone numb. These past few days, she barely moved on horseback—every shift felt like being ripped apart. Still, she had to pretend nothing was wrong.

She didn’t dare let Felix know she was injured. Who knew what he might do if he found out? Serena didn’t really understand him—if it weren’t for William, she’d never have traveled with a stranger.

"What? Prince Samuel Manor?" The gate guards jumped, scrambling down in a hurry.

Rank may not beat authority, but Prince Samuel Manor’s reputation was too big to ignore. The guards didn’t dare slack off—they creaked open a side door and respectfully asked, “Do you two have any proof of identity?”

These days, just shouting your name wasn’t enough—no one would believe you unless you had proof. Most officials weren’t exactly famous faces; even people who’d lived their whole lives in the capital might not recognize a single one.

Serena handed over the token; the guard took it with both hands and said, "Please wait a moment." Then he headed into the city to verify their identities.

"Aren’t you afraid they’ll just take your token?" Felix asked, a little puzzled. In his world, that token would be precious—how could she hand it over so casually?

"They wouldn’t dare," Serena said, completely unconcerned.

People here were raised to obey and submit—they wouldn’t dare challenge their superiors.

Sure enough, after the time it took for a stick of incense to burn, the city prefect himself came out to greet them, apologizing and bowing, offering food and drink, and even giving up his own quarters.

If Serena hadn’t said they were on official business and needed to rest, the prefect probably would have stayed with them all night.

"So fake," Felix said with obvious disgust as soon as the prefect left.

"It’s normal. Don’t forget, we’re from the capital—of course he’s going to treat us well. This is the prefect’s residence, so we should be safe tonight. Take a hot bath and get some real sleep. We’ll head out at dawn."

Serena wasn’t surprised by the flattery—she was used to it. She’d gotten the same treatment in the modern world.

At the military hospital, she’d been the low-ranking doctor everyone could order around. But on assignment, hospital directors treated her with utmost respect, because she represented the Military General Hospital.

The city prefect of Easestream might be a big shot locally, but in the capital—where nobles and old families were everywhere—he was nothing, bowing and scraping to everyone.

Capital officials were close to the throne; out-of-towners automatically acted a rank lower, flattering them in hopes of a good word with the powerful back in the city.

In modern times, they’d be called central government envoys—everywhere they went, someone would be assigned to host them. At their level, even a provincial governor would roll out the red carpet. Prince Samuel’s status was even higher than the top nine leaders in the modern political bureau.

With Serena’s explanation, Felix felt perfectly justified enjoying the prefect’s hospitality. Watching how naturally he accepted the servants’ help, Serena guessed he was probably someone important back home too.

That thought reassured her. Once in her room, Serena dismissed the servants, stripped off her outer clothes and thermal gear, and saw that her underwear was stained red with blood.

The blood had long dried, leaving uneven stains—soaked, dried, and soaked again. Her underwear was stuck to the wounds and wouldn’t come off.

Serena took out a handkerchief, folded it, bit down, closed her eyes, and yanked the underwear off in one go.

It hurt—badly!