Chapter 334 - Three Hundred And Thirty Three

Chapter 334: Chapter Three Hundred And Thirty Three

Kade blinked, snapping out of his daze. Hearing her strict, commanding tone made his military instincts take over immediately. He didn’t question her. He didn’t argue.

"Yes, my lady," Kade said firmly. He bowed his head quickly, showing his submission to her authority.

Kade ran over to the unconscious driver lying on the road. He picked the man up over his shoulder and carried him quickly to the carriage.

Camilla dragged the bleeding assassin to the door and threw him roughly onto the floor of the carriage. Kade placed the unconscious driver carefully on the velvet seat.

Then, Camilla went to Damon.

She knelt beside him. She wrapped his arm over her shoulder and supported his weight, helping him stand up on his shaky legs.

Together, they slowly walked to the open door. She helped him climb into the carriage, letting him sit heavily on the seat. He leaned forward slightly, unable to rest his wounded back against the soft cushions.

Camilla climbed in right after him. She pulled the door shut.

Kade jumped up onto the high driver’s box. He grabbed the leather reins tightly.

"Go!" Camilla shouted through the small glass window.

Kade cracked the whip loudly.

Snap!

The horses neighed and surged forward with massive power. The carriage jerked into rapid motion, leaving the bloody, dusty ambush site behind them. They rolled quickly down the dirt road.

Inside the carriage, the smell of fresh blood, sweat, and burnt gunpowder filled the small space. The carriage bumped roughly over the uneven road, tossing them slightly from side to side.

Damon sat on the edge of the velvet seat, leaning forward. His breathing was becoming much faster and incredibly shallow. His face was rapidly losing its color, turning a scary, pale shade of grey. The dark, wet stain on his blue coat was growing larger and larger by the second.

Camilla knew she had to stop the bleeding immediately. The lead ball had created a deep, messy wound. If she did not apply pressure right now, he would bleed to death long before they reached a doctor.

She looked around. They did not have any medical supplies in the carriage.

She looked down at her own clothes.

She did not hesitate for a single second. She grabbed the edge of her silk dress and pulled it up. Underneath the silk, she wore several cotton petticoats.

She gripped the cotton fabric firmly with both hands and pulled hard.

Riiiiiip.

The loud sound of tearing cloth filled the quiet carriage. She tore a long, wide strip of white cotton from her undergarments. She tore another one, and then another one. She tied the strips together quickly, making a long, thick makeshift bandage.

She moved much closer to Damon.

"Lean forward," she instructed softly, her voice steady and calm.

Damon groaned slightly from the pain, but he obeyed her. He leaned his chest toward his knees.

Camilla pulled the back of his torn blue coat open. She saw the ugly, bleeding hole in his white shirt. She quickly folded one of the cotton strips into a thick, tight pad. She placed it directly over the bleeding wound.

She pressed her hands down very hard, applying pressure to the injury to stop the rapid blood flow.

Damon let out a sharp hiss of pain. His shoulders tensed violently.

"I know it hurts. I’m sorry," Camilla said gently. "But I have to stop the bleeding."

She took the long strip of cloth and wrapped it around his chest and back. She tied it into a very tight, firm knot, securing the pressure pad firmly in place.

She sat back on her seat, her hands covered in his warm, sticky blood. She watched his chest rise and fall, praying the bandage would hold.

Damon slowly lifted his head. He looked at her. He remembered the exact way she shot the gun and dragged the man. He remembered her cold, commanding voice shouting orders at Kade.

Damon slowly raised his right hand. His hand was shaking violently. His fingers trembled as he reached out toward her.

He gently touched her pale cheek, smearing a very small drop of his own blood on her soft skin.

He looked into her eyes. His own eyes were full of pain, confusion, and a deep, terrifying fear.

"Who are you?" Damon asked softly. His voice was weak, barely a whisper over the loud sound of the rolling wheels.

Camilla looked at his shaking hand. She felt his cold fingers resting on her cheek. She didn’t know how to answer him. She couldn’t tell him she was a trained assassin from another world.

Before she could even think of a lie to tell him, the world outside the carriage suddenly changed.

A strange, low rumbling sound started deep beneath the earth. It grew louder and louder.

The ground began to shake violently. The dirt road trembled. The carriage bounced and swerved, almost losing balance. The horses outside neighed in panic.

"Hold on!" Kade shouted loudly from the driver’s box, pulling the reins very hard to keep the carriage from flipping over.

Then, the wind started to blow. It was not a normal evening breeze. It was a violent, howling gale. The brutal wind whipped fiercely around the carriage, rattling the glass windows and shaking the doors. The sky instantly turned an unnatural, dark shade of deep purple. The temperature inside the carriage dropped rapidly, turning the air freezing cold.

It felt like the entire universe was breaking apart into pieces.

Camilla looked out the small window. The tall trees were bending wildly. The dry dust was swirling in thick, dark tornados.

Suddenly, a voice echoed in the small space.

It did not come from outside the carriage. It did not come from Damon. It echoed loudly, and clearly inside Camilla’s own head.

It was a deep echoing voice. It felt like cold stone and iron pressing against her brain.

Camilla instantly recognized the voice. Her eyes widened in horror. Her heart stopped beating.

It was the exact same mysterious voice she had heard on the very first day she woke up in this historical world. It was the voice that had told her she was trapped inside this novel.

The voice spoke very slowly, filling her mind with dread.

"You have failed."

"Failed?" Camilla thought frantically, her mind spinning in chaos. " What does that mean? What happens to me now?"

She looked back at Damon to ask if he seeing what she’s seeing.

Damon’s eyes were closed. His face was relaxed, empty of any pain or confusion. His skin was a very pale, frightening shade of grey.

The hand that had been touching her cheek slowly slid down.

His hand fell limp. It dropped from her face and landed lifelessly on the velvet seat beside his leg. His chest, which had been rising and falling with labored breaths, was terrifyingly still.

Camilla stared at him. She could not breathe.

She reached her shaking, bloody fingers out. She pressed two fingers gently against the side of his neck, right where she always felt his steady pulse.

She waited.

There was absolutely nothing.

There was no thump. There was no movement. The warm, comforting beat of his pulse was gone.