Doma's border was almost completely unguarded.
It was called the world's greatest natural barrier, a place where no mortal could pass.
The mountains there were known for their terrifyingly unpredictable weather, where one moment could bring scorching heat, and the next, a violent storm with biting cold winds.
The high mountains already had low oxygen levels, compounded by the long, special journey and the impassable, rugged terrain of the dense hills and peaks.
Even airplanes flying high above often crashed due to the extremely harsh weather conditions.
The danger here was on par with the Manos Swamp.
But Arabella had chosen to take this route.
After Julius sent his men to lay a heavy encirclement at the border between the countries, he waited for a long time but never saw Arabella and her group arrive.
Julius opened the map once again, his brows furrowing tightly together.
Arabella was seeking her own death.
Though he was deeply intrigued by Arabella, with a strong urge to capture her once more and indulge in his desires, he knew she was not worth the risk.
As he led everyone to retreat, Julius couldn't help but glance back at the road leading to the Manos border.
"Arabella, I hope you really make it out alive."
Meanwhile, Nicholas, who had been saved by his subordinates and was recovering in the hospital, had no time to rest.
But he wasn't idle at all, constantly ordering everyone to track Arabella's whereabouts.
When Nicholas heard that Arabella had countered Julius, a satisfied smile appeared on his face. The more he thought about it, the more pleased he became, wishing he could have been right there with her to see her fierce, graceful demeanor. It must have been captivating.
Unfortunately—
Thinking about how he had offended his admired object because of an imposter, he could hardly stay calm.
Fortunately, that impostor had already been driven to madness by him. When Arabella left, she didn't even spare a glance, clearly not considering the impostor worth her attention at all.
No matter, it was better to make it clear.
Arabella was the goddess in his eyes. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he was certain—he would make her forever stand at the peak of the mountain, invincible and indomitable, with no weakness left to exploit.
Though this time, because of an imposter, Arabella had suffered quite a loss.
But such material losses didn't matter; he could help Arabella recover them in no time.
"Give the order—gather all the sordid secrets of those politicians and officials who took part in the hunt for Arabella. Let them know, if they dare to lay a hand on her again, those secrets will be exposed for all to see."
Nicholas was just about to show his devotion to his goddess when he immediately received a piece of bad news.
Arabella, with her people, had plunged into Doma's border and had never emerged.
"What? Why didn't you go after her?"
Nicholas, in a fit of rage, pulled out his IV and without a word, was about to go to the border himself to find Arabella.
But his trusted confidant stopped him. "Boss, no one can survive crossing that border."
"Arabella will definitely make it!" Nicholas shouted urgently, fearing that even a second of delay would mean her death.
"Exactly, Boss. Arabella's abilities are exceptional. Choosing this route is clearly a well-thought-out plan. We should station people in Doma, make arrangements for her there, and remove any concerns she might have when she comes out of the border. Isn't that better?"
As the saying goes, those involved are often blinded. With his confidant's words, Nicholas finally managed to suppress his anxiety.
Thinking carefully, Arabella has always been someone with a grand vision, always calculating and seldom doing anything without certainty. If she chooses to dive headfirst into a situation, could it be that she has already mapped out the entire plan?
Thinking this, Nicholas couldn't help but dance with joy. The moment Arabella had broken his wrist had been excruciating, a pain that tore at his soul. Yet now, if it meant he could make a sacrifice for his goddess to remain forever at the peak, he would gladly endure a thousand cuts and a thousand tortures.
*
After Arabella entered the border with her team, she had not come back out.
Upon entering the border, there were still a few scattered villages at the foot of the mountains.
These villages, nestled between mountains and rivers, had relatively milder living conditions. Far from the wars of neighboring nations, they could barely be considered a place of refuge, a rare spot where one could find peace.
But for the people of these villages, their lives had come to an end.
Arabella had given the order to massacre the villages.
There was no need to leave any survivors. On one hand, it would risk revealing the whereabouts of her group; on the other, she had no intention of staying here long. There was no purpose in leaving anyone alive—just the supplies were enough.
The ones who had survived this long and still dared to follow Arabella into such perilous places were all ruthless and vicious desperadoes.
When Arabella ordered the massacre, her subordinates were like locusts passing through, leaving nothing behind—not even the animals were spared, all killed, as they awaited their feast that night.
Arabella picked a stone house at random. The family of four, from the elderly to the young, had just been cut down by a hail of gunfire, their bodies still warm. She ordered Raven to toss them all into the corner, piling their remains into a heap.
Sitting on a stool, Arabella held a map of Doma in one hand while gnawing on dry rations with the other.
Outside, blood rained and screams echoed, but it did not affect Arabella in the slightest.
When times were good, she enjoyed fine wine and food, but when times were hard, she was content with chewing on tree bark to fill her stomach.
Unarmed and helpless, the people were no match against the heavy gunfire. As her subordinates grew more excited by the killing, they began to toy with their victims, finding new ways to torment them. By the end, only a few young women remained, and the situation took a darker turn.
In fact, those who followed Arabella were always quite carefree.
Arabella never strictly monitored the private lives of her subordinates. Back at their base, if these men wanted to release their desires, there were always women for sale, so everything was relatively peaceful.
Recently, while fleeing for their lives, with death hanging over their heads, desires had transformed into the thrill of survival—something they hadn't even thought about.
Now, on the verge of entering a deadly place, their desire to survive mixed with lust, as if indulging in a final surrender before death.
The men's lustful cries mixed with the sorrowful weeping of a few women, the muffled sounds faintly reaching Arabella's ears.
Arabella was studying the terrain map, making her final route plans.
Nicholas knew Arabella very well—she would never do anything without careful consideration.
Over the years, she certainly didn't just stay at the base, indulging in pleasures, nor did she limit herself to mere trade.
More often than not, she traveled with Raven, secretly scouting almost every route near the neighboring countries.
She knew well that her presence would draw attention, and that one day, she would inevitably face a joint assault from the military and police of several nations. That's why, long ago, she had already planned this perilous path.
It was both a road to death and a path to survival.
If the Mountain Range were to be crossed normally, disregarding the harsh weather and treacherous peaks, just walking with two legs on flat ground would still take eight days.
With the unpredictable climate and the sheer cliffs, it could take over a month and still not guarantee an escape.
There was no supply along the way, as the cliffs were impassable and the area deserted. It was impossible to carry too much—let alone firearms—much less enough food for over a month. It was a fantasy.
She spent a long time studying the Mountain Range, and after countless attempts, she finally discovered a shortcut through repeated climbs.
A shortcut that cut across the mountain range.
The journey was shortened to just six days to cross the Mountain Range.
Of course, in this world, there is no such thing as a free lunch.
The reason this shortcut remained unnoticed was that between the two mountain ranges lay a narrow natural passage, barely wide enough for a single foot. Below it was a sheer cliff, and one wrong step could send you plummeting to your death, shattered beyond recognition.
She had climbed through that narrow gap, and so had Raven.
The two of them had no problem crossing it, and Norman had his own skills, so no one needed to worry about him. But the rest were another story.
She didn't care about the lives of those others, but she wasn't planning to stay in the mountains like a hermit. Once they crossed the Mountain Range, she would need manpower.
Especially—
Arabella's gaze shifted to Taras and Bramwell.
Taras was shouting as he slaughtered cattle and sheep, preparing to cook a good meal to reward himself. Bramwell sat alone under a tree, resting with his eyes closed. His identity had changed, and he no longer needed to partake in the killing.
Before his death, the leader had entrusted Bramwell with the task of taking over, making him her trusted aide.
When the screams of women echoed once more, a sinister light flashed in Arabella's eyes.
Her nature was actually very dark, and when her gaze fixed on a target, it naturally carried an intense aggressiveness.
In recent years, she had feigned kindness, hiding all her maliciousness behind a smile, making people mistakenly believe she was gentle, demure, and easy to get along with.
Arabella glanced at a group of men in the distance, engaged in their primal indulgences, then silently lifted her gun. Without needing to aim or hesitate, she pulled the trigger without a second thought.
After the shot rang out, an eerie silence followed.
A subordinate, who had been pressing on a woman, suddenly felt a wave of warmth hit him. His vision blurred with red and white, a mess of blood, yet he did not feel any pain.
The woman, who had just been subjected to his brutal treatment, now had her head blasted open, half of it caved in. One eye was shattered and hung limply outside, her death a scene of utter horror.
The shock was so intense that it almost caused him to lose his vitality.
All the subordinates were trembling in fear, not daring to even pull up their pants, their eyes nervously shifting to Arabella.
Arabella nonchalantly lowered her gun and asked with a smile, "Will your legs go weak tomorrow when we climb the mountain?"
Her gaze swept across, and the group of men looked like lifeless corpses.
After a moment, the subordinates snapped back to reality, hurriedly pulling up their pants and getting dressed, killing the remaining people, and obediently resting.
Finally, there was silence.
The next day, well-fed and full of energy, Arabella set out with her people, leaving behind the village, now forever at peace, and the bodies that would soon turn to white bones.
