Beginning Of Downfall
Althea trudged toward the next medical camp, each breath a sharp, ragged gasp. She could feel her mana reserves dwindling to dangerous levels.
The mere thought of the hundreds of patients still waiting for her sent a shiver down her spine.
"How am I supposed to manage this alone?" She let out a haggard sigh, her resolve wavering.
But she knew she couldn't stop. She had to keep going, for their sake.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, she felt an unnatural heat radiating from her skin. "Mana exhaustion... just what I needed," she mumbled, her vision starting to blur around the edges.
"Your Highness," Clyde's voice cut through the haze, a lifeline of concern, "I think you should take a break."
She nodded weakly, barely registering his words.
"But Your Highness, you are going to see my—" started the middle-aged man at the tent entrance, but his words died in his throat as Clyde's glare silenced him.