CHAPTER 341: CHAPTER 341 AFTERMATH OF THE FIGHT 2

For warriors, such moves were necessary in battle. In their eyes, her courage in facing the berserk ogre head-on had earned their full trust. Now, whatever she said, they would follow without hesitation.

"Also... how many casualties do we have? Are there any warriors who won’t be able to recover soon?" Addison asked, her voice heavy with concern. Though she had traveled many times before, this was the first time she had ever experienced casualties within her own caravan, and the weight of it pressed hard on her chest.

"Answering the Princess," the warrior replied respectfully, "we have four deaths. As for the injured, thanks to Your Highness’s high-grade healing potions, although they were already at their weakest before the fight even ended, they managed to hold on until the battle ended."

"After you distributed the potions, their recovery stabilized. There were no further deaths. And in about five minutes, they should be able to move again, and we can continue our journey."

"That’s good to hear. Please, let them rest for a while before we move on. After all, we’ve just gone through a life-and-death battle, they deserve at least that much." Addison said softly, though she left the rest of her thoughts unspoken.

There was no need to burden them further with worry when, in their current state, they could do nothing about it anyway.

What she didn’t say aloud was that ’they needed to check whether the main group required rescue right now.’ The thought weighed heavily on her. If such an ambush had happened here, there was a real chance the main group was also under attack elsewhere.

But looking at her warriors’ condition, Addison knew they couldn’t rush in recklessly. Many were still too injured, their strength barely recovered. Charging forward now would only turn them into liabilities, or worse, cannon fodder.

Even she was wounded and drained, her body protesting with every breath. As much as she wanted to help, she doubted she could offer much in her current state.

Right now, what she needed most was rest. After sending the warriors away and making sure Zion had been properly dressed, Addison knelt beside him once more to check his condition. There were no visible wounds when she wiped him down earlier, but to be safe, she gently tilted his head and carefully fed him a high-grade healing potion.

Only then did she glance down at herself; her clothes were stained with blood and dirt, some of it her own. The cuts and bruises burned sharply beneath her skin, but she kept her composure, refusing to show any sign of pain.

The last thing she wanted was for the others to worry or, worse, blame themselves for forcing her hand in the battle.

None of them knew she couldn’t shift into her wolf form, and she intended to keep it that way. They probably assumed she chose to fight in her human form because of the sword she wielded, which was a gift from Silas.

In truth, though, that sword had become her best cover, a perfect excuse to hide a secret she wasn’t ready to reveal.

If her secret were ever exposed, that she couldn’t shift, those lurking in the shadows, and the ones secretly backing Mila’s claim to the throne, would surely seize the opportunity to act.

The coronation she had waited for all her life would be jeopardized, perhaps even delayed indefinitely, until she could prove her ability to shift. But who could say when that would happen?

By the time she did, she might already have been stripped of her rightful place.

For now, those supporting Mila remained subtle only because they feared Addison’s strength, her influence over the public, and the firm backing of her father, the Alpha King. Yet if word spread about her inability to shift, they wouldn’t hesitate to gamble everything to snatch the crown from her hands.

After all, in their world, respect was earned through strength and power. If word ever got out about her inability to shift, even her father’s backing might not be enough to keep the public’s faith in her leadership.

The people admired and supported her not just because she was the Alpha King’s daughter, but because of her own strength and because of her wolf.

If word ever got out, she might lose half of the support she currently had, and that would only give Mila and the others conspiring against her even more ammunition to tear her down.

Addison let out another heavy sigh, feeling a wave of dejection wash over her. Still, she couldn’t afford to let these thoughts drag her down. ’No,’ she told herself, ’I can’t lose focus now.’ She forced her mind to clear and pushed her worries aside, out of sight, out of mind.

After checking her body for injuries, she uncorked a high-grade healing potion and drank it slowly, feeling the sharp stinging pain across her body gradually fade into a dull ache. When the worst had passed, she reached into her magic bag, pulled out some beef jerky, and began to eat.

The salty, chewy meat helped ground her, but it wasn’t enough, so she took out an almond tart next, sweet, soft, and just filling enough. Jerky could only do so much before her jaw got tired, but sweets restored her energy, and the mix of both gave her the balance she needed to recover a little strength.

After some time, Addison felt full and stopped nibbling, her gaze drifting toward the warriors who were busy helping one another recover. Many had already managed to stand, though still unsteady on their feet, but they were alive, and that was what mattered.

Others were carefully placing the fallen warriors into body bags, covering them with blankets so they could be brought home and buried properly.

Addison didn’t say anything; she simply watched in silence, understanding their pain all too well. She bowed her head and offered a silent prayer for the dead.

"Thank you for your service... and I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better. May you and your wolves be reborn into better lives, with greater strength and brighter paths ahead," she prayed quietly, her eyes closing as the faint, muffled sobs of the surviving warriors reached her ears.

The moment of solemnity was spent in quiet respect as the warriors recovered and paid tribute to their fallen comrades. Once most had regained their strength, a few of them began cutting down the massive uprooted tree the first ogre had wielded as a weapon.

Working together, they chopped it into pieces and made it into a makeshift wagon to carry the bodies of the dead.

It was a simple yet sturdy contraption, built with teamwork and silent determination. When they finally finished loading the fallen onto the wagon, the timing felt almost fated, because at that very moment, Zion stirred and slowly woke from his slumber.

"You’re awake. How do you feel?" Addison asked worriedly, reaching out to support Zion as he struggled to sit upright.

Zion coughed weakly, and Addison immediately offered him her animal-skin water flask. "Here, wet your throat a little," she said softly, guiding it toward his lips. Zion gave her an embarrassed look but didn’t resist; he obediently let her help him drink.