The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 172 Garrett's Return

+8 Pearls

In the darkness near Wamond Vale's cliffside, a bloodied hand grasped a small tree along the path, pulling itself

upward. Harlan, barely alive, managed to crawl onto solid ground, his body drenched in sweat and

blood.

Though his wounds were grave, and he had lost so much blood, he managed to tear off his outer garments and

bandage his abdomen, staunching the flow of blood-just barely. But after tending to himself, Harlan collapsed,

slipping into unconsciousness as the night wore on.

As dawn broke, several carriages and a long procession of men cdown the road. Ahead of the group. two

light cavalrymen rode, holding torches. They were the first to spot the bloody trail and the still body lying in the

road.

The cavalrymen raised a hand, signaling the carriages to stop. One rider dismounted and knelt beside Harlan,

checking his pulse. “He's still breathing, he said, turning to his companion. “Go report to Great Marshal Sharp.”

The second man immediately spurred his horse back to a green carriage and dismounted, quickly approaching

the carriage to bow and report, “Great Marshal Sharp, a wounded man is up ahead. He has a severe abdominal

wound, but he’s still alive-barely.”

The carriage door swung open, and a tall man stepped out-a broad, dark-skinned figure with a full beard. He

moved quickly, followed by his aides, who held torches and kept a hand on their weapons.

The man, after taking a quick look at the injured body, raised his eyebrows in recognition. “Harlan?”

“You know him?” one of his aides asked.

You

“Quickly, fetch the Consumption Pills!” the man, now identified as Great Marshal Sharp, barked.

One of his aides rushed back to the carriage, rummaging through it until he retrieved several vials. The Great

Marshal knelt beside Harlan, directing his aide to gently raise his head. He crushed the pills between his fingers

until they turned to powder, then poured the mixture into Harlan’s mouth, followed by a sip of water from a flask.

The aide quickly produced more supplies-healing balms and herbs-to treat Harlan’s deep wound. As he worked,

he muttered, “This wound is deep and severe. It could be fatal,”

“Harlan, Harlan,” Great Marshal Sharp called, slapping Harlan’s face gently..

Harlan’s eyes suddenly snapped open. The light from the torches burned his vision, and for a moment, he

couldn't make out who was before him. But he gripped the Great Marshal's hand tightly, his voice hoarse and

desperate. “Please... save Isolde. She’s at the bottom of the cliff.”

Great Marshal Sharp narrowed his eyes. “Isolde? Snowy?”

As soon as he spoke, thirty or so strong men, ropes in hand, began descending the cliffside. The follo carriage

stopped, and an elderly woman, dressed in black satin, was helped down by two middle-aged women dressed in

green.

The old woman's silver hair was neatly styled in a high bun, held in place by an ornate wooden pin. Despite her

age, she stood tall and alert, exuding quiet strength.

“What's happening here?” The elderly woman, upon seeing Harlan lying on the road, paused in surprise. Her

sham eves narrowed as she leaned in for a closer look “Tent this Harlan? What hannemed to him?”

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Chapter 172 Garrett's Return

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Garrett, stepping forward, gently took her hand. “This wind is too strong, and the dew is heavy. Why bring her

out here in this weather? You should return and rest for a bit. We're almost there”

The old woman, Natasha, tightly gripped his hand, her voice filled with concern. “What's happened to

Harlan?

“He’ll be fine. There's nothing serious, Garrett reassured her.

Natasha, however, wasn't easily fooled. She glanced toward the men still descending the cliff and frowned.

“Garrett, don’t try to makeout to be a fool. What's going on?”

Natasha was Garrett's wife, and in her youth, she had been a formidable figure in the business world. helping her

family amass a great fortune. When her family had no male heirs, she had inherited it all.

Garrett sighed, offering a soft smile. “Harlan just woke up and mentioned that someone had fallen down the cliff.

I've already sent men to rescue them. We'll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

Natasha looked at him sternly and ordered, “First, get Harlan into the carriage. The ground is cold and damp-it’s

not good for his condition.”

Without hesitation, the men who had stayed on the top of the cliff carefully lifted Harlan into the carriage, where

Natasha personally tended to him.

Half an hour later, the rest of the men returned.

“Garrett, we can’t go any further down-it’s too high, one of his men reported, breathless from the climb.

Garrett, with his hands behind his back, gave a quiet order. “Find a way. Twist the rope into two strands and send

two groups of men down.”

“Garrett, below is Briswin River. If someone falls, they'll end up in the river. What if we send a team down the

river to search?”

Garrett paused, his mind racing. Though he hadn’t been back to Argentum in a long time, he still knew the land

well. After a moment's thought, he gave his command. “Leave two teams here to keep searching down the cliff.

There’s a path nearby that may lead down further. We'll see how far we can get. In the meantime, send twenty

men to Carigval Town. They'll follow the river's path, searching the banks. Alive, we find them. Dead... I'll go to

the King of Hell myself.”

His final words were dripping with authority-a brutal, commanding tone that spoke volumes about the man’s

resolve.

The bulk of the force made their way back to Argentum, and as they entered the city, Garrett gave one final

order. “Bring Geoffrey to me.”

Meanwhile, Geoffrey, who had not slept all night, was in his study, holding a portrait of Prunella in his hand,

slightly tipsy from the wine.

Isolde is gone now, he thought bitterly. I've finally sent her away.

The house had quieted. There was no more chaos, no more tension. Just silence.

“You can rest now. | won't let her return. There's no place for her at the Duke’s estate anymore. You can rest

easy. He muttered, his fingers brushing over Prunella’s likeness on the portrait, lost in his thoughts.

It had been sixteen years since Prunella’s death. Sixteen years of aching, gnawing pain-one that never went

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Chapter 172 Garrett's Return

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away. He could never understand how two people who had once been so close, so intertwined in life, could

beccomplete strangers. He couldn't shake the feeling that with Isolde gone, he had lost the last thread

that connected him to Primella.

“Forget it Geoffrey muttered. “She was nothing but a curse. If not for her, you'd still be alive, wouldn't you? You

must hate her, don’t you?

He placed the portrait down on the desk, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over him. The past few days had

drained him his body was fatigued, but he knew he had to keep going. Everything would be fine... eventually.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of footsteps outside his door. A servant knocked urgently.

“Geoffrey, someone requests an audience with you.”

Geoffrey looked up, irritated. “Who?”

“It's an officer from the Sharp family,” cthe authoritative voice from outside.

Geoffrey froze. The Sharp family? He hadn't expected them to return so soon.

He quickly stood up, tucked the portrait of Prunella away, and hurried to open the door.

Standing before him was a familiar face-General Steven Justice, one of his father-in-law’s trusted officers.

“Steven,” Geoffrey greeted, inviting him in quickly.

But Steven shook his head. “No, Geoffrey, Garrett requests your presence at his residence. It's urgent.”

“Now?” Geoffrey blinked in surprise.

“Yes, it's very important,” Steven replied.

Geoffrey, knowing Garrett's fiery temper, didn’t dare delay. He quickly changed his clothes and stepped. outside,

calling for Harlan-only to remember that Harlan had insisted on accompanying Isolde to Windermount.

He shook his head, realizing just how brazen Harlan had become, now openly defying him.

Steven, hearing Geoffrey's call for Harlan, raised an eyebrow. “Where is Harlan?”

“He’s probably gone out,” Geoffrey muttered, shrugging as he stepped out the door to meet with Garrett.

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