Filed To Story: Queen of the Battlefield Her Return to Glory Novel Online Free
He gently said, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have suspected you. Don’t be angry.”
“I’m not angry. I’m not so petty,” Freya replied with a broad smile, though her tone was laced with sarcasm.
Blake continued in a soft voice, “Of course you’re not
After a pause, seeing his wife smile, he added, “We came here as reinforcements. We don’t know what happened in the previous battles, so it’s best if we don’t concern ourselves with Sophie’s achievements or the marshal putting her in charge of the Mystic Army.”
Freya laughed dryly. “Can I control anything here? Most of the generals here were her father’s former subordinates. Even my father once served under Hector. She’s the daughter of a duke and a noble lady. How many people here are eager to help her gain military merits? I wouldn’t dare offend her.”
Blake had seen Sophie’s martial arts skills, but he knew that on the battlefield, martial prowess alone was not enough. In the chaos of battle, martial arts skills could only help kill a few more enemies and slowly accumulate military achievements.
But Sophie hadn’t been at the Southern Frontier for very long. Even if she had fought in battles, she wouldn’t immediately be promoted to fifth-rank Valor General in such a major war.
So, there were indeed elements of favoritism. But if Rafael was willing to support her, there was nothing Blake and Freya could do. After all, the world was inherently unfair.
“We can’t provoke her, but we can avoid her, right?” Blake said, feeling a mix of helplessness and melancholy.
Freya sneered. “Why should I avoid her? I earned my military merits through hard work. What does she amount to?”
“Freya, what are you planning to do?”
“Nothing!” she called out as she walked away.
Within three days, all one hundred and twenty thousand reinforcement troops were all angrily discussing one thing: Sophie had been granted the title of fifth-rank Valor General without any notable achievements, solely relying on the prestige of her father and brothers.
Under Freya’s encouragement, the soldiers were incited to keep complaining to each other.
“If she wanted to ride on the military achievements of her father and brothers, she should stay in the capital and enjoy her life of luxury. Why does she need to come to the battlefield and steal our military merits?”
“We risk our lives to protect the country, all for the sake of honor and achievements. She did nothing and still got promoted to Valor General. How unfair is that?!
“It’s well known that the marshal is strict in his military discipline. He rewards and punishes without any bias. Who knew that even he could show favoritism, giving such a big promotion to Lady Devin for nothing? What’s the point of us fighting and killing on the battlefield? The enemies we kill might end up as her achievements.”
“The Southern Frontier is in urgent need of support. We’ve trudged through snow, rain, and wind, with many soldiers falling ill along the way. Yet, we didn’t rest for a moment. We marched day and night to reach the front lines.”
“General Ernst even endured her old injuries to avoid wasting the military medics’ supplies, fearing there wouldn’t be enough at the front lines. She would rather suffer herself, only for the marshal to scold her upon arrival and accuse her of being jealous of Lady Devin. He even handed over command of the Mystic Army to a divorced woman. If word gets out, wouldn’t it be the biggest joke in Starhaven?” “Exactly! General Ernst made decisive contributions at Victory Pass with just three hundred soldiers. Even so, she’s still only a fourth-rank Tactical General, while Lady Devin, who was elevated by the marshal, is a rank higher.”
“Why do we go through such hardships? Ultimately, we’re just here to serve as someone else’s stepping stone.”
Such rumors and grievances led to extreme dissatisfaction among the reinforcements.
Even within the Mystic Army, some were indignant, feeling that it was unacceptable for their elite force to be led by a woman with no achievements or virtues. However, despite their discontent, they didn’t dare voice it. It was Rafael who had put Sophie in charge of them, and they needed to obey him without question. So, they could only harbor their resentment silently.
But when Sophie came to train with the troops, most of them were uncooperative and looked at her with contempt.
Sophie and Violet had been busy planning the training schedule these past few days, unaware of the rumors circulating among the reinforcements.
Confused by the Mystic Army’s lack of cooperation, Sophie paused the training and asked Bun and a few others to investigate if something had happened recently. The findings left Violet and the others fuming.
“This is outrageous! I’m Violet Spencer, a lady of a prestigious family in Ebonflow and an apprentice of the renowned Inferno Guild. How dare they call me Sophie’s maid? Violet exclaimed, slamming her palm on the table.
Cynthia was equally furious, ranting, “I’m an apprentice of the Crystal Bloom Guild and was appointed as a battalion commander by the Hell Monarch himself. Now, they say I’m your foot-washing maid!” Bun was also full of anger and grievance as he added, “Apparently, I’m your attendant, along with Rod. They say that when you go to relieve yourself, we have to stand guard nearby and not let anyone approach,”
Sophie was dumbfounded. “That’s so absurd!”
“Of course it is! They also say you’ve never earned any military merits, that the marshal promoted you because of your father and brothers. They claim the other generals’ achievements were credited to you. They’re shouting about their dissatisfaction and threatening to report to the marshal.”
Violet snapped her whip, her expression icy. “It was Freya’s soldiers who started this. They called you a decorative pillow-pretty but useless.
“Damn it! When we were attacking the city, you were the first to leap up and destroy the crossbow machines, then jumped down to open the gate, leading three thousand men to defend the supply depot. They wouldn’t have full bellies now if it weren’t for you. The food they brought could only last a few days.”
Cynthia angrily added, “Who does Freya think she is? She’s just a troublemaker! Let them go complain to the marshal. We’ll see what good it does them.”
Sophie frowned upon hearing those words. She didn’t care about rumors, but deliberately creating division and unfairness within the army, as well as disrupting morale before a decisive battle, was a grave mistake.
Freya had been on battlefields and should have known this. She was likely trying to use public opinion to pressure Rafael into sidelining Sophie to stabilize the army’s morale.
“It’s only spreading among the reinforcements, right?” Sophie asked.
Violet was still seething with anger, her face growing increasingly red. She replied, “Yes, the reinforcements are camped separately from the Hell Monarch Army-the soldiers who were on the Southern Frontier since the start with the marshal. So, they don’t know about the rumors. If they did, some of them would surely confront the reinforcement troops.”
Sophie’s frown deepened. After the numerous battles they fought together, many soldiers now respected her. If they found out she was being slandered like this, it wouldn’t just be arguments-fights could break out.
That would completely shatter morale and cohesion. With the situation like this, how could they come together to fight the enemy? They might as well hand over the Southern Frontier to Sandoria. “They’ve already started inciting and are trying to get some of the generals among the reinforcements to see the marshal,” Bun added.
Sophie thought for a moment and said, “Let them go for now. I believe the marshal can handle them. With the possibility of war with Westhaven and Sandoria looming, the marshal won’t tolerate any disruption of morale at this critical time.”
“Are we just going to ignore this?” Violet’s face was full of frustration. “Can’t I at least go give Freya a good thrashing to vent my anger?”
Violet couldn’t tolerate even the slightest injustice. Given her noble status, the thought of being labeled as Sophie’s maid was infuriating.
Sophie kept her gaze steady as she said, “If you want to, you can. But remember, she’s a higher-ranking officer. Assaulting a general will earn you a severe punishment. If you don’t want to be in that situation, I’d advise against it.”
Violet snorted. “If I weren’t in the military and holding the position of battalion commander, I’d beat her up without hesitation. I’m telling you, once we’ve recaptured the Southern Frontier, I’m done with the military. Even if they offer me the position of general, I won’t care.”
All these restrictions were driving her crazy.
That evening, it was indeed reported that Freya’s cousin, Zeke Ernst, had led a group to stir up trouble in front of Rafael.
In a fit of rage, Rafael had the ringleaders dragged away and given thirty lashes each.
He also issued a military order-anyone dissatisfied with Sophie could challenge her, If they could exchange ten blows with her and survive, their previous disturbances would be forgiven. If they chose not to challenge her, they were expected to focus on training and drills, or, face military disciplinary action.
With this order issued, some soldiers in the Mystic Army who were discontented but had previously kept silent began to make their voices heard.
One of them was Michael Brown, a lieutenant in the Mystic Army with notable martial prowess. When Sophie took the troops out for field drills and tactical training once more, he stepped forward. “General Devin, the marshal has stated that anyone dissatisfied with his arrangement can challenge you. If the challenger can exchange ten blows with you and survive, they will be absolved of any guilt. However, I do not seek pardon. If you defeat me, I will no longer speak a word against you, regardless of how you achieve your victory, General Devin!” Michael declared.
Michael was known for his arrogance and self-assuredness. He had practiced martial arts since the age of seven and joined the army at fifteen. He was now thirty, and had never slacked in his training.
To him, the marshal’s words were a grave insult.
Ten blows? It was laughable!