Deep in the dense forest, towering trees that required a grown person to wrap their arms around stood tall and thick, packed tightly together. Although it was noon and the sun blazed fiercely overhead, the canopy was so lush that not a single ray of light could filter through.
A slender figure fled in panic toward the depths of the woods, glancing back from time to time. Her forehead was covered in a fine layer of sweat, her cheeks were smudged with scratches and a bit of mud, and her long hair hung down her back in a mess, with only a single hairpin dangling crookedly to one side, bouncing with every stride as if it were about to fall at any moment.
Her pale yellow dress was already torn in several places, and the thin, cicada-wing-like silver sword in her hand lacked a scabbard, which she must have dropped somewhere along the way.
Chapter 157