Two females, one large and one small, came sprinting toward this direction, pursued by a wild ox with dark green skin.
"Oh no, it’s a bull in heat! Princess, run with me!"
The green ox, sporting sharp horns on its head, had eyes the size of copper bells that were bloodshot with rage.
"Moo!"
Seeing the crowd before it, the bull stopped in its tracks, alert. Its thick, sturdy limbs paced anxiously, and heavy, ragged breaths puffed from its nostrils.
Seeing the situation with the bull spiraling out of control, Taylor grabbed the Little Female with one hand while hoisting the stag from the ground with the other, preparing to find an opportunity to escape.
As the wild ox prepared to charge, Michelle screamed in terror.
Her sharp, piercing cry provoked the volatile bull, causing it to lower its head and charge at the "two-legged beasts" that had made the noise.
Seeing this, Loki hurriedly pulled his daughter and his beloved along as they ran toward the distance. However, he was not particularly powerful, and burdened by two people dragging him down, his speed dropped after covering only a short distance.
The bull behind them drew ever closer. Panic-stricken, Michelle let go of Loki’s hand in her frenzy.
"Michelle, be careful! Come back!" Loki’s face turned deathly pale when he realized the bull was charging directly toward her.
Michelle looked back at the closing ox, her legs turning to jelly, but in a life-or-death moment, she had no choice but to grit her teeth and keep running.
"Damn it, why is it only chasing me?"
She did not know that the bull, unable to find a mate in its state of heat, was attracted to her because she carried the scent of a female. Furthermore, to keep from being scratched by the forest brush, she had specifically worn a skirt made of ox hide, which led the bull to mistake her for one of its own kind.
"What do I do?" Michelle gritted her teeth, darting her eyes around until they landed on Ophelia and Taylor, who were leisurely resting under a tree nearby.
*Why should I be the one in such a sorry state while this little slut Ophelia has someone to protect her?*
She bit her lip, a thought forming in her mind, and she veered her path sharply toward where Ophelia stood. Naturally, the bull shifted its course to follow her.
By now, the bull had entered a state of berserk frenzy; its speed increased, and it no longer bothered to avoid bushes or saplings, charging straight at Michelle with its sharp horns leveled.
In the flash of a second, Michelle’s frail body erupted with startling speed. One second before the horns could strike, she dove behind Ophelia.
"Ophelia, save me!"
"Princess, look out!"
With the sharp horns inches away, Ophelia tried to dodge, but Michelle held her waist in a death grip, pinning her in place and turning her into a literal human shield.
Just as her life hung in the balance, a pair of scorching, large hands clamped tightly around her slender waist.
Ophelia felt a sense of weightlessness as she was spun in an arc through the air, narrowly escaping the oncoming horns. Michelle, trailing behind her, was carried along and pulled out of danger.
"Princess, stay safe. I’ll deal with that bull." After placing her in a safe spot, Taylor turned with a cold, sharp expression and charged toward the rampaging beast.
"Taylor..."
"Ophelia, are you alright?" Loki arrived with Amy, scanning the Little Female anxiously.
Amy’s heart hammered like a drum as she called out timidly, "Mother..."
Ophelia was in no mood for a display of "maternal affection." Her beautiful eyes were fixed entirely on the male fighting the bull, terrified that he might be injured.
Seeing her mother ignore her, Amy felt a pang of bitterness. She bit her lower lip and stubbornly turned her head away. "Auntie Michelle, I’m glad you’re safe. I was so scared. If you had been hurt, I would have been heartbroken."
As she spoke, she glanced sideways at the solemn-faced Ophelia. In the past, her mother would have turned red with rage at the slightest sign of concern for Auntie Michelle, but now, her mother didn’t even turn her head an inch.
"I’m fine." Michelle’s cheeks were flushed crimson from the frantic running, and she clutched her chest, gasping for breath.
"As long as you're safe. I’m going to help Taylor." Loki rose to leave, but a pair of delicate, pale hands caught him.
"No, don't go. My legs are weak; I’m terrified. Don’t leave me. Taylor is a Dragon Beast; the bull won’t be able to hurt him."
Amy also looked at him with watery, frightened eyes. "Father."
Loki’s heart swayed. He pursed his lips, glanced at the solemn-faced Little Female in the distance, and said in a low voice, "I’ll help you over there and look after her while I’m at it. After all, she is the princess of the Golden Dragon Clan. I haven’t been elected chief yet, and she cannot come to any harm."
A flash of malice crossed Michelle's eyes; she wished the bitch would be gored to death by the bull. But for now, she had to act magnanimous. "Alright."
Ophelia, under high mental tension, noticed their arrival but had no interest in acknowledging them.
Loki felt dissatisfied seeing her gaze remain fixed on Taylor. "Amy was just terrified, yet you, as a mother, don't come over to comfort her and just keep staring at that male instead. What is this?"
Ophelia looked back, her expression indifferent. "She has a father and a dear aunt to care for her; why would she need me?"
"If you have the spare time to trouble me, you’d be better off going to help Taylor."
Loki pondered this, his resolve wavering.
"Ophelia, you may not care about Amy as her mother, but Loki does. She is the first grandchild of the clan leader; if you don't care, I do."
"Besides, Taylor is so strong, he doesn't need any help. I advise you to focus your attention on Loki and Amy. After all, you won't have a chance to be his mate anyway, will you?" Michelle’s words were laced with provocation.
Sure enough, Loki’s face darkened like ink, and he completely abandoned the idea of going to help.
After an hour-long battle, the bull finally proved no match for Taylor and fell. The massive carcass hit the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"You're hurt."
There was a deep wound on Taylor’s muscular arm, and Ophelia felt a sharp pang of heartache. Seeing blood continuously oozing from the gash, she hurried to tear a piece from her leather skirt to bandage his wound.
Taylor held her hand and comforted her softly, "It’s just a small scratch; it’ll be fine by tomorrow. Don't worry, Princess."
As she bandaged him, Ophelia complained, "If we couldn't beat it, we could have run. Was there any need to risk your life?"
Seeing her pouting, Taylor’s fingers twitched, wanting to poke the little puff of air, but seeing the blood on his hands, he silently pulled back.
Only when the bull was truly dead did Michelle dare to approach. She reached out and touched the carcass, which still held some warmth. "The rainy season is coming soon. Making boots and skins out of this hide will be both waterproof and warm."
Watching the intimacy between Ophelia and her group, as if no one else were around, Loki felt a tightness in his chest. Hearing what Michelle said, he immediately spoke up loudly: "Since you like it, I'll have the hide sent to you when we get back."
Michelle was overjoyed, then feigned concern. "Ophelia... will she agree? Please don't argue with her over me again. It wouldn't be good if she misunderstood again."
"It's fine. It's just a hide; she won't care."
"Deciding what belongs to others just by flapping your lips, Loki—where do you get the nerve?"