The steward's body began to sway, weakened from his injuries.
He spat a mouthful of black blood, realizing that if he didn't retreat soon, the combined toll of his wounds and the poison would claim his life—even as a half-step tier-gold mage.
Without a second thought for Alan, Isabella, or even the black canvas bag, he turned and fled, terrified Alan might pursue him.
After the steward's panicked retreat, Alan didn't give chase.
He was nearly exhausted himself, both his mind power and mana close to depletion.
Carrying his unconscious sister, Alan climbed back onto the carriage, tossed the black bag inside, and drove toward the nearby town.
With the early hour, there weren't many people on the road, allowing Alan to enter the town with Isabella quickly.
Once inside, Alan let out a sigh of relief.
He immediately found the most luxurious hotel and booked a room, not out of luxury but for security.
