Chapter 72: A Heavy Road North
The echo of bandit screams faded into the woods, leaving only thin, shaky quiet in the air.
Jonathan's sword slipped limply from his grasp, clattering against the grass, and he pressed a hand to his chest as if he could still feel Ren's roar rattling his bones.
When he lifted his head, his eyes locked immediately onto Hannah—and stayed there, wide and earnest, before he remembered to bow.
"I… I have no words to thank you properly. All of you. I am Jonathan Rothmorde."
Hannah nodded simply, wiping her dagger clean before sheathing it.
"Hannah. We're just travelers."
"Travelers with a dragon," Jonathan muttered under his breath, still half-dazed, then cleared his throat and gestured to the three girls huddled beneath the oak.
One wore flowing, warm-hued robes that stirred a faint, distant flicker in Hannah's mind—fabric and cut like nothing in this world, close to the Middle Eastern clothes she'd known in her old life.
