Amidst the thunderous sound of hooves, time seemed stretched into a taut string. After another hour of hard riding, the horses beneath the members of the Special Operations Team had reached their absolute limits, nearly exhausted. Every horse was like a warrior struggling against the reaper, their four hooves moving forward with agonizing effort. Each step was overwhelmingly heavy, as if they were wading through thick marshland rather than soft turf. Sweat fell from their bodies like rain, soaking large patches of the ground, while white plumes of mist puffed incessantly from their nostrils, their eyes filled with fatigue and pain.
A few minutes later, the horse beneath Marcus was the first to give way under the high-intensity run. Its front hooves suddenly buckled as if drained of all strength, and its massive body tipped heavily forward. Unprepared, Marcus was violently flung from the saddle by momentum, crashing hard to the ground. Fortunately, his reflexes were sharp and his physical conditioning top-notch, so he sustained no serious injuries. He quickly scrambled up, steadied himself with a sway of his body, and began running forward with all his might. Yet his speed now matched that of the others on foot—giving a clear picture of how drastically the pace of the entire group had slowed.
Behind them, the pursuers had also slowed considerably. The prolonged ride had left them equally exhausted, their horses struggling at the edge of their limits. Even so, despite the dro…
Chapter 79