Filed To Story: Queen of the Battlefield Her Return to Glory Novel Online Free
Upon reaching the Southern Frontier, she inquired and learned that only two cities, llyrian and Simonton, remained unrecovered.
The Hell Monarch had led his troops like a war god and reclaimed 90% of the lost Southern Frontier territory. Only these two cities remained, explaining the absence of supply convoys.
Now, all the Hell Monarch’s forces were focused on llyrian. Once the city was recaptured, they could drive the Sandorian forces back to Simonton. There, they would continue the assault and reclaim the entire Southern Frontier for Starhaven,
Sophie urged Lightning towards Ilyrian City despite fatigue creeping in. This was the final push. She pushed Lightning harder, determined to meet the Hell Monarch by day’s end.
As night fell, she approached the battlefield. The Hell Monarch’s troops were stationed outside llyrian, but the city itself remained unconquered. The devastation she witnessed since entering the Southern Frontier filled her with sorrow and love. Her father and brothers had sacrificed their lives here.
Alas, there was no time for sentimentality.
She rode straight into the camp, brandishing her Rose Spear high in the air.
“I am Sophie Devin, daughter of Hector Devin, the Duke of Northwatch! I seek an audience with the commander of the Hell Monarch’s army!”
She repeatedly shouted until her voice was hoarse. Soldiers tried to stop her, but Lightning burst through their ranks like a thunderbolt, like a steed born of the gods.
“I am Sophie Devin, daughter of Hector Devin! I have urgent military intelligence for the Hell Monarch!
Sophie shouted loudly, her hoarse voice piercing the night air.
Inside the camp, torches flickered to life. Soldiers emerged with weapons drawn at the sound of her voice. Upon hearing her words that she was Hector’s daughter, they hesitated and held their ground. She dismounted swiftly, letting her spear hang low, and faced the approaching soldiers who were wearing battered and worn armor. Holding Lightning’s reins, she removed the black cloth from her face, revealing her.features.
“I am Sophie Devin, daughter of Hector Devin, the Duke of Northwatch. I bring urgent military intelligence for the Hell Monarch!” she said firmly.
When they heard she was Hector’s daughter, the soldiers lowered their weapons. Even the hostility in their eyes disappeared. They watched her with curiosity, but allowed her no closer.
In this tense standoff, a black steed thundered towards them from the front. It halted before Sophie.
A tall man in golden armor sat upon the steed, and looked down from his elevated position. His face was smudged and his beard covered half of it, leaving only a pair of bright eyes shining with visible intensity. The black steed circled Sophie once before the man leaned down, towering over her.
“You’re Hector’s daughter?” His voice was grave and laced with doubt.
“Yes!” Sophie looked up at the commander before her, unsure if he was indeed the Hell Monarch, Rafael Sanford.
He was Salvador’s younger brother. When a king was crowned, they took up a different surname to usher in a new era. That was why Salvador and Rafael didn’t share the same family name. Sophie had seen Rafael when she was young, but at that time, he was still a teenager. Because he had started training in martial arts at an early age, he was much taller than boys his age.
Even in his youth, Rafael had a refined and handsome appearance. When Sophie returned to the capital from the guild, she heard he was renowned for his bravery and unmatched combat skills. Some even said he was the most handsome man of his time.
The man before her was far from handsome, but he exuded an undeniable aura of command and authority. His eyes held a particularly sharp, chilling gleam, like the vast and dark horizon.
The man eyed her spear, a glint of determination in his eyes. After a moment’s contemplation, he declared, “I believe you. Come with me!”
Sophie breathed a sigh of relief.
This must be the Rafael. She had expected it would take more effort to meet him; unexpectedly, merely shouting outside Ilyrian had drawn him out.
Sophie followed Rafael on horseback, glancing at the campfires spaced every few steps. Her heart sank at what she observed.
The Southern Frontier originally had three hundred thousand soldiers, with another hundred thousand seconded from Victory Pass, totaling four hundred thousand soldiers. From her observations, however, not even half of those numbers were left.
Rafael had marched through twenty-three cities, reclaiming all but two. It was clear many soldiers had sacrificed their lives.
Outside the command tent, vanguards and lieutenants stood on either side. Their armor was worn, their faces weather-beaten, and their beards unkempt.
A few generals stood a short distance away from the main tent. Sophie recognized one of them- Timothy Farrell, an old comrade of her father’s. He had even held her as a child.
Timothy strode up and stopped before Sophie. He studied her face, then said excitedly, “Sophie Devin? Is that you?”
“Timothy!” Sophie’s eyes stung.
Timothy’s lips trembled slightly as he nodded, then he turned away. Seeing Sophie reminded him of Hector and the six junior generals.
Several more of Hector’s former comrades approached, their eyes slightly red under the firelight.
One elderly general asked, “Lady Devin, how is your mother’s health? Is the cold still troubling her legs?
Sophie felt a sharp pain in her heart, and tears nearly fell.
She nodded quickly. “I have important matters to discuss with His Highness. We’ll catch up later, Timothy
Rafael stood tall outside the main tent, his imposing figure casting a shadow over Sophie. In his usual commanding tone, he ordered, “If you have military intelligence to share, come inside and report it.” He lifted the tent flap, and entered. Sophie tightened her grip on her spear and followed.
Inside the tent was chilly, barely warmer than outside, in the center stood a table with maps and a sand table for tactical discussions.
On the south side, there was a bed with bedding that had turned dirty gray, tainted with the scent of blood and medicinal herbs. In the corner, there were discarded blood-stained bandages. There were no chairs or stools. A mat was laid beside the sand table. Rafael sat down first, his posture somewhat peculiar-not cross-legged, but with one leg stretched out and the other bent. “Speak,” he said curtly, “about this important military intelligence you have.”
Sophie lowered her spear, and looked into his ink-black eyes.
“My second senior received intelligence from Sandona. Approximately three hundred thousand soldiers from Westhaven have entered Sandoria, wearing Sandorian soldiers’ armor. They’re heading towards the Southern Frontier battlefield.”
Rafael frowned. “Your second senior got this intelligence? I recall you went to the Pathfinders Guild. Is she also from the same guild?”
“That’s right.” Sophie was afraid he might not believe her. “Your Highness, the Intelligence my second senior gathers is reliable. While the exact number of soldiers may vary, three hundred thousand is a minimum estimate, but there are possibly more.”
Rafael stared at her. “Why not report directly to the king?”
Sophie explained, “I did, but without solid evidence, His Majesty didn’t believe it.”
“Your second senior…” Rafael shook his head, his dark eyes flashing. “You should have told him it was intelligence from your eldest senior, He would believe that. The king holds Kyle in high regard.”
“I did claim it was from my eldest senior, but I made a mistake. I forged his handwriting in a letter, and the king saw through it.” She paused, then looked at Rafael. “Do you believe me?”.
“Your second senior, Winona Preston, is the most renowned spy in the martial world. Her reports are rarely wrong. However, the king is unfamiliar with the martial world, and the Pathfinders Guild recognizes only your eldest senior,” Rafael said.
Sophie hadn’t expected Rafael to know so much about the Pathfinders Guild. Slowly, she felt the heavy burden she had carried all the way here finally lightened.
At this moment, Sophie felt utterly exhausted. Her legs trembled as she sat down on the mat. She was too tired to worry about proper etiquette. It had been a long time since she had been so rushed, and she was struggling to keep up.
Rafael saw her state, and smiled. “You’re worn out, aren’t you? How many days did it take you?”
“Five days,” Sophie said, catching her breath. “I’m fine, but my horse is really exhausted.”