Filed To Story: Queen of the Battlefield Her Return to Glory Novel Online Free
Hayden, clearly affected by the weather, barely touched his dinner. After a few cursory bites, he set his cutlery down and announced that he was heading back to the study to practice his calligraphy to clear his mind. He gestured for Chaya to follow, and the two left the room.
Before departing, Chaya made sure to take two heaping plates of snacks with her. After all, she wasn’t about to let herself go hungry.
Nicholas, still in his Gordon disguise, watched Hayden leave but made no move to stop him. It didn’t matter where Hayden went-his every step was being monitored. Besides, Nicholas had far more pressing matters to attend to tonight.
Back in his room, Nicholas locked the door behind him and methodically prepared for the night’s mission. He changed into his stealth attire, then sat before a mirror. Opening a small wooden box on the table, he revealed an array of lifelike facial masks.
Carefully, he peeled off the current disguise from his face and selected a new one from the box. The masks were marvels of craftsmanship, fitting so seamlessly that even close inspection wouldn’t reveal their artificiality.
Though he would later conceal his face with a black cloth, Nicholas meticulously blended the edges of the mask at his jaw and neck with pigments that matched the mask’s tone. Even if the cloth were removed in a struggle, no one would detect his true identity.
A knock at the door broke the silence. Nicholas covered his face with the black cloth and called out, “Come in.”
The door opened and a shadowy figure slipped inside, his movements silent and ghost-like.
The figure whispered, “Your Highness, Kyle and Jacob have taken Travis to the Capital Guard headquarters. It seems they’re aware that we plan to act tonight.”
“It’s fine.” Nicholas’ voice had changed-it was no longer Gordon’s voice. Though he spoke softly, his words were full of confidence and authority.
“Understood. When shall we depart? And how many men will you need?”
“Not yet,” Nicholas said, closing the wooden box with deliberate care and rising to his feet.
He selected a sword from a rack near the wall, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light.
“Even if Adrian himself shows up, he’s no match for me. A handful of minor players are nothing but a nuisance.”
As he adjusted his weapon, a thought occurred to him. He turned to the figure. “What about the people staying in Russell Estate next door? Have they been thoroughly investigated?”
The shadowy figure nodded.
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“Yes, Your Highness. They’re indeed descendants of the Russell family, but they’re a collateral branch, not direct heirs. They’ve been living in Jinshire, trading goods. They returned to the capital recently to disturbances caused by bandits. When they arrived, they had to break the lock on the door to enter the residence. Over the past few days, they’ve rarely left the property. When they do, it’s only to purchase food and basic supplies.”
Russell Estate was right next door, so investigating was easy. When the door to the estate opened, Nicholas felt a weight in his chest and ordered someone to inquire.
Nicholas nodded. “Even if Adrian were to return in person, he certainly wouldn’t choose to stay in Russell Estate.
The Russell family, once held in high regard, had suffered setbacks years ago and grown disillusioned with the court. Adrian, in particular, had long avoided associating with the children of nobles or officials, with Sophie being the lone exception.
Now, the Russell family’s glory days were a distant memory. They were no longer considered royal kin, and the once-proud plaque declaring their residence a royal estate had been removed. What remained was a dilapidated property, a shadow of its former grandeur.
When Nicholas had returned to the capital, curiosity led him to sneak into the estate. Inside, he found nothing but overgrown weeds and neglect. The desolation was telling Adrian loathed the place so deeply that he hadn’t even bothered t? assign anyone to maintain it.
If Adrian were in the city, Nicholas surmised, he would sooner stay at the Glimmering Tower or the Hell
Monarch Estate than set foot in that decaying estate.
One of his Shadow Guards interrupted his thoughts, asking when they should strike.
Nicholas replied, “With so much chaos tonight, they’ll be on high alert. The early hours of the morning is when even the strongest willpower falters and they’re most likely to feel drowsy-some time between three to five. That will be the ideal time for the assassination.”
He waved a hand. “Get some rest for now.”
As the shadow guard bowed and left, Nicholas added, “Keep eyes on those staying in Russell Estate. Report any movement.”
Even though he felt confident in his plans, Nicholas wasn’t one to take chances.
Killing Sophie was a critical step. She might not have been a tactical genius on the battlefield, but she was Hector’s daughter, Rafael’s princess consort, and the commander of the Mystic Army. She was the backbone of the army.
If Sophie fell, the Mystic Army would lose its anchor. Even if a new leader stepped in immediately, the disruption would buy Nicholas the crucial days he needed.
At the Capital Guard headquarters, the atmosphere was far more relaxed. In the main hall, several mats were laid out on the floor for the group to rest. One person stood watch while the others sprawled out, snoring softly.
The watch shifts rotated every hour. It was unwise for anyone to stay awake the entire night, especially when the timing of the assassins’ arrival-if they came at all-remained uncertain.
Still, the group was well-trained. Having mastered inner force techniques, their senses were finely attuned to danger. Even in the deepest sleep, the slightest hint of a threat-be it the whisper of footsteps or a draft from an opened door-would jolt them awake.
By the early hours of the morning, the rain had lessened to a gentle drizzle, leaving the air cooler and the night more serene. The quiet respite lulled many into a deeper, more peaceful sleep.
Seven or eight shadowy figures darted through the curfewed city, their movements light and swift. They barely left a trace as they touched down on rooftops, their steps silent.
They arrived at the Capital Guard headquarters. The outer guards had already retreated for the night, leaving only Sophie and her companions waiting in the main hall, tense and alert.
With a quick exchange of glances, the group gripped their weapons.
The assassins had arrived!
The dim light of the hall flickered, and as the black-clad figures descended, a gust of wind extinguished the lamps. Darkness enveloped the room, plunging it into an impenetrable black where even an outstretched hand became invisible.
Amid the darkness, the faint sound of breathing and the subtle rhythm of movements became the only clues to the assassins’ positions.
Nicholas led the charge, his inner force leagues ahead of the others. His sword moved with deadly precision, cutting through the air in a sharp arc toward Sophie’s neck.
Sophie leaped, her foot landing on the flat of the blade as she evaded the attack. Twisting midair, she landed gracefully, her Rose Spear sweeping forward to clear the immediate danger. Guided by instinct and the faint scent of Violet’s presence, she moved to stand back-to-back with her, their weapons raised to meet the incoming assault.
The battle in the pitch-black night was intense, with only the sounds of blades, spears, and swords clashing.
Sophie and the others felt a heavy weight in their hearts. When experts fought, just a few moves could reveal each other’s skill level. These people were highly skilled, especially the one who kept attacking Sophie, whose abilities seemed to be beyond measure.
The realization struck the group like a cold wind: Nicholas himself was likely among the attackers. If they could take him down, it would be a monumental victory.
However, before the battle reached its peak, they had already taken turns getting injured, and they hadn’t even exchanged a hundred moves yet. Everyone was shocked.
Forget capturing Nicholas just surviving the fight would already be considered a blessing!
Thankfully, they had strong resolve. Any other group would have crumbled by now.
Huddled together, they fought as a unit, minimizing the risk of being separated in the chaotic darkness. Their eyes began to adjust, faintly discerning shadows. The occasional glint of the sword guided their movements, helping them narrowly avoid lethal blows.