Florence had sensed it the moment the leader's smile vanished before her eyes. The expression in the leader's gaze was strange, as though she had grown weary of her incessant babbling and protests. But she didn't expect that she would be completely discarded by the leader she trusted so much.
Cradling herself, Florence sank into a seated position, her legs trembling with weakness, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She should have known that a radical organization that wanted to kill others would not hesitate little to turn on their own comrades.
Meanwhile, Allen removed his shirt and carefully cut into the skin of his hand where the arrow had struck. He extracted as much blood as he could before tightly binding his wounded hand with reig to bandage the whole hand.