Blood. Not Bella's blood. Whether any of the screaming is Bella's screaming is up to her. Her body won't be nauseated, but only she can determine how her mind feels about the bloody hand lying in the dirt before her, still clutching a longsword. She meant for the sword to be in that place, edge out, cutting; she must have, because the sword goes where she means it to go. Did Bella mean for there to be a bloody hand lying in the sand afterwards?
The man she's unhanded is trying to jam the hand into his own chest, maybe to stop the flow of blood, maybe to stop the pain. The other man, the one who originally fired the crossbow bolt at her, has backed off from her a few steps while holding his sword in a defensive position. "We'll take one quarter of the loot from the bodies, the carriage," he says in a harsh voice. "Enough for my friend to get a 『Full Heal』. You can have the rest of the loot, the carriage, and the boy if you want him. Deal? You want more, you'll have to fight for it, and I doubt you can keep that 『Haste』 up much longer."