Chapter 333 - Three Hundred And Thirty Two

Chapter 333: Chapter Three Hundred And Thirty Two

She ran as fast as her legs could possibly carry her. Her dress and the wide hoop skirt tried to slow her down. The stiff corset squeezed her ribs tightly, making it hard to breathe. But she ignored the discomfort. She lifted the silk skirts high above her knees with one hand and sprinted across the wide road.

She rushed toward the fallen musket, keeping her eyes locked on the weapon.

Up in the tree, the injured assassin realized he had lost his biggest advantage. He pulled the dagger out of his hand with a painful grunt, blood dripping from his palm. He looked down and saw the woman running toward his gun.

He did not stay in the tree. He jumped down from the low branches. His heavy boots hit the dirt road, sending up a large cloud of dust. He landed just a few feet away from the musket.

He saw Camilla reaching out for the long metal barrel.

The man quickly reached down to his leather boot with his uninjured left hand. He pulled out a small sharp hunting knife. He raised the knife high, ready to attack her before she could pick up the gun.

But Camilla was faster.

She slid into the dirt, ignoring the scrape on her knees. She grabbed the stock of the musket firmly. She pulled the weapon up. She knew the weapon still had the previous load inside it. When her dagger hit his hand, he had finished loading, but he had not fired. The gun was already ready.

She swung the metal barrel around. She did not stand up. She stayed low in the dirt.

The assassin lunged aggressively at her with the small knife, thinking she wouldn’t know how to handle a musket.

Camilla aimed the metal pipe at his lower body. She pulled the trigger without a single moment of hesitation.

BANG.

The deafening explosion shook her ears. A bright, blinding flash of orange fire erupted from the nozzle. The recoil pushed her shoulder hard backward. A thick cloud of white smoke filled the air between them.

The lead ball hit the assassin directly in the upper leg.

"Aaaagh!" the man screamed in pure agony.

His leg gave out. He fell heavily to the floor, rolling in the dirt. He dropped his small knife and grabbed his bleeding leg with both hands. He groaned loudly in pain, unable to stand up and fight.

Camilla stood up from the dust. She held the smoking musket tightly in her hands. The metal barrel felt warm against her skin.

She walked slowly over to the groaning man. She did not feel any pity. She looked down at him with cold, empty eyes.

She quickly knelt by his side and grabbed the leather belt wrapped around his waist.

She pulled off a small leather pouch filled with black gunpowder and pulled off a small wooden box filled with round lead balls. She collected the valuable ammunition from his belt efficiently and quickly.

Suddenly, her sharp ears picked up a very faint sound.

Rustle. Rustle.

It came from the thick green bushes on the side of the dirt road, just a few yards away. Someone was moving quietly through the dry leaves, trying to stay hidden.

Camilla did not panic. She stayed calm.

She stood up and opened the leather pouch. She poured a precise amount of black gunpowder straight down the hot metal barrel of the musket. She reached into the wooden box, took out a lead ball, and pushed it down the pipe. She pulled the thin metal ramrod hidden under the barrel and used it to push the ball down tightly against the powder.

She reloaded the weapon in less than fifteen seconds. Her hands moved with practiced speed, treating the old weapon with the exact same respect and skill she used for modern firearms.

She lifted the musket. She pulled the wooden stock tight against her right shoulder. She rested her left hand under the long barrel to steady it perfectly.

She stood in a solid shooting position. She held the musket exactly as she used to hold her high-tech sniper rifle in her past life.

She kept both eyes open, focusing on the moving bushes. She breathed slowly and evenly, controlling her racing heart rate.

She waited. She knew patience was the key to a perfect shot.

The bushes rustled again.

A masked face slowly peeked out from behind the green leaves. It was another assassin. He was holding a drawn steel sword, looking for his fallen comrade.

He stepped out into the open dirt.

He saw the woman in the torn, bloodied,dirty

dress standing in the middle of the road. He saw the long metal pipe aimed at his face. His eyes widened in shock.

He did not even have time to raise his sword to defend himself.

Camilla pulled the trigger.

BANG.

The second loud explosion echoed across the bloody battlefield. The thick white smoke clouded her vision for a brief second.

When the smoke finally cleared, the man was down. The lead ball had hit him in the head. He fell violently backward into the bushes, dead before his body even hit the ground.

Camilla slowly lowered the smoking musket. She let out a calm, steady breath. The threat was now neutralized.

At the same time, Kade had just finished cutting down the last two masked assassins with his sword. He wiped the wet blood from his blade and quickly turned his body around to check on his commander.

Kade ran toward the carriage. He fully expected to see Damon standing tall, giving strict orders.

Instead, Kade stopped dead in his tracks.

He saw Damon sitting in the dirt, leaning heavily against the wheel of the carriage. Damon was bleeding very badly, his breathing shallow and ragged.

But that was not what shocked the aide the most.

Kade looked at the middle of the road. He saw Lady Camilla.

She was wearing a ruined, bloody, dusty silk dress. But she was holding the strange weapon with professional, terrifying ease.

Kade saw the dead assassin with the hole in his head fall to the ground. He saw the other assassin groaning and bleeding on the ground from a severe leg wound.

Kade’s eyes widened in fear and shock. He stared at the Lady.

He had just watched her execute a man with a flawless, terrifying headshot. She moved exactly like a seasoned, deadly soldier. She was not afraid of the blood or the loud explosions.

Kade swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. He felt a sudden, cold shiver of fear run straight down his spine. The woman standing in the road was far more dangerous than any enemy soldier he had ever faced in war.

Damon also saw everything.

He was fighting the terrible, burning pain in his back. His vision was slightly blurry, but he watched his wife closely.

He saw her throw the dagger. He saw her slide in the dirt, shoot the man, and reload the weapon in mere seconds. He saw the cold, empty look in her dark eyes as she aimed and fired without hesitation.

Damon was speechless. He could not form any words. The sharp pain at his back made it incredibly hard to talk.

But his face showed everything. His eyes were full of questions. Who was this woman? Where did she learn to do that that? Why did she hold a strange weapon like it was a natural part of her arm? If he survives this day, he knew he had a lot of serious questions to ask her.

Camilla dropped the empty musket onto the dirt. She turned around and walked over to the groaning assassin with the injured leg.

She grabbed him roughly by the collar of his shirt, used all of her strength to drag his body across the dirt road, heading toward the open door of the carriage. She needed a prisoner to interrogate later.

She looked at Kade, who was still standing frozen in shock.

"Kade," Camilla commanded. Her voice was sharp, loud, and authoritative. She spoke exactly like a high-ranking general giving a strict order on a battlefield. "Bring the driver inside the carriage. And you take the reins. We need to leave this place now. Drive as fast as you can."