Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 269: Chapter Two Hundred And Sixty Eight

The dirt road leading toward the lower city was now silent.

Hugo lay face down in the dirt. His head throbbed with a deep, sharp pain. He slowly blinked his eyes. His vision was blurry. He groaned softly, tasting the dust in his mouth. He placed his bare, shaking hands flat against the dirt and pushed his upper body up.

He looked around. The carriage was gone. The horses were gone. The thugs were gone. And most importantly, Lady Camilla was gone.

Hugo reached a trembling hand up to his head. He felt a large, swollen bump on the side of his skull. His fingers came away with dark, dried blood. He looked down at his body. He was only wearing his simple long white undershirt.

"My lady," Hugo whispered to himself. His voice was weak and scratchy.

Panic flooded his chest. He was the driver. His only duty was to protect the carriage and the passengers inside. He had failed. He had allowed a group of thugs to ambush them and take the wife of the General.

Hugo knew he could not stay on the road. He had to get help.

He forced himself to stand up. His legs shook violently, and he almost fell back into the dirt. He took a slow, unsteady step forward. Every time his foot hit the ground, a sharp pain shot through his head.

"I have to warn the mansion," Hugo thought to himself, pushing through the terrible pain. "I have to tell the General."

He began to walk. He dragged his feet along the dirt road. The journey back to the Benson estate was a little close but felt incredibly long. The sun beat down on his bare head, making him sweat profusely. He stumbled many times, but he kept moving forward.

Finally, after a long, painful walk, the high stone walls of the Benson mansion appeared in the distance.

Hugo dragged himself toward the iron gates.

Two heavily armored guards were standing at their posts near the entrance. They saw a man stumbling toward them. At first, they did not recognize him because he was missing his uniform coat and hat. His face was covered in dirt and dried blood.

As the man got closer, one of the guards narrowed his eyes.

"Is that Hugo?" the guard asked his partner. His voice was full of deep confusion.

The guards immediately opened the small side gate. They rushed out to meet him. They grabbed his arms, supporting his weak body.

"Hugo! What happened to you?" the guard asked loudly.

Hugo could barely speak. He just pointed a shaking finger toward the main house. "Mr. Murry... I need to see Mr. Murry."

The guards helped him walk through the gates and into the large, paved courtyard.

Inside the courtyard, Mr. Murry was standing near the front steps. The older housekeeper was holding a parchment, giving daily instructions to a group of young maids.

Murry turned his head. He saw the two guards dragging a bloody, dirty man across the stones.

Murry’s old eyes widened in shock. He dropped his parchment onto the ground. The paper scattered everywhere.

He recognized the driver immediately.

"Hugo!" Murry shouted. He ran across the courtyard as fast as his old legs could carry him. The young maids gasped loudly and covered their mouths in fear.

Murry reached the injured man. He looked at Hugo’s bruised face, his bleeding head, and his missing clothes. He knew Hugo had just left the mansion less than an hour ago driving Lady Camilla’s carriage. If the driver was here, bleeding, stripped and alone, something terrible had happened to the carriage.

A cold fear immediately grabbed Murry’s heart.

"Hugo, what happened?" Murry asked. His voice was loud, shaking, and full of frantic worry. He held Hugo’s arm tightly.

Hugo looked at the older housekeeper. He took a ragged, painful breath. He spoke, his voice sounding helpless and broken.

"Lady Camilla has been kidnapped," Hugo said.

The entire courtyard went absolutely silent. The maids stopped whispering to each other. The guards froze.

Murry stared at Hugo. The words hit his brain like an iron hammer.

"Kidnapped?" Murry thought to himself. His mind could not process the terrible information. "The Lady? Kidnapped in broad daylight? Just a few miles away from the estate?"

Murry felt a sudden, hot flash of anger mix with his deep fear. He was a loyal servant of the Benson family. He knew the massive power and the terrifying reputation of the Tyrant General. No one in their right mind would ever dare to offend the General.

Murry spoke, his voice filled with disbelief and rising fury.

"Who dares touch a family member of the Bensons?" Murry demanded loudly.

Hugo leaned heavily against the guards. He shook his head slowly.

"I don’t know who they were," Hugo replied weakly. "They were thugs. They blocked the dirt road. They pulled me down from the box and beat me. One of them put on my clothes and took the reins."

Hugo closed his eyes, fighting the pain in his head. Then, he remembered the very last thing he had heard before the carriage drove away. He remembered the loud shout from the thug leaning out the door.

"But I know where they went," Hugo added quickly, opening his eyes.

Murry stepped closer. "Where? Tell me immediately!"

Hugo swallowed hard. He passed on the exact location the thug had shouted.

"They said they are taking her to the abandoned warehouse near the old docks," Hugo explained, his voice desperate. "The one by the rotting pier in the lower city."

Murry nodded his head sharply. He turned to the guards and the maids.

"Take him inside right now!" Murry ordered loudly, pointing at Hugo. "Call for a doctor immediately. Take care of his wounds. Wash the blood from his face."

The guards nodded. "Yes, Mr. Murry!" They carefully carried the injured driver toward the servants’ quarters to get him medical help.

Murry did not waste another single second. He turned around and ran up the wide stone stairs. He rushed into the grand foyer of the mansion.

He went straight to the small desk near the entrance. He grabbed a piece of parchment paper, pulled the dark feather quill from its stand and dipped it quickly into the black ink.

His old hands were shaking violently with fear. He knew how much the General cared for his wife. He knew Damon would be absolutely furious. But he had to deliver the message fast.

"The General must know," Murry thought to himself as he wrote. "Only he has the power and the soldiers to storm the lower city and get her back safely."

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