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The reinforcement troops only acknowledged Blake and Freya, who had led them to the Southern Frontier. Rumors among the reinforcement troops about Sophie had fueled their disdain for her. They believed Rafel and the other generals had elevated her standing. They hoped Freya would shatter Sophie’s facade of invincibility, and expose her supposed charade.
Timothy was appointed to ensure fairness in the challenge, with other generals watching nearby. Rafael stood at the front of the Mystic Army, clad in his armor. The setting sun cast a glow on his dull gold armor, highlighting its dried bloodstains. His recently shaved beard had begun to grow back, and the harsh cold had chapped his skin. Although his once-handsome features were somewhat marred, his imposing presence remained undiminished.
Addressing the gathered soldiers and generals, Rafael explained the consequences for the loser of the challenge. Once both Freya and Sophie accepted the terms, he fell silent.
Freya stood with a long sword in hand, her battle outfit yet unstained by blood. She held the sword upright, her posture straight. With her thick eyebrows and confident demeanor, she exuded the aura of a true warrior.
She gazed coldly at Sophie, who stood before her with the Rose Spear. If not for the fact that Sophie’s exquisite features remained the same, Freya would never have been able to connect her with the same lady of the Jaffe household in the past, who was dressed in fine clothes and behaved in a dignified manner.
Except for her facial features, Sophie’s appearance and outfit were completely different from before. Her hair was now messy and greasy, her face roughened by sand and cold. It was a stark contrast to the formerly smooth skin that had once seemed almost flawless and soft.
Freya had never felt an ounce of jealousy or admiration for such beauty. In the secluded inner parts of a household, women could afford to show their most stunning side.
She despised such fragile prettiness, which seemed as breakable as glass.
The wind howled, carrying Freya’s voice to Sophie.
“Sophie,” Freya said, “do you really think you can surpass me, just because you’re on the battlefield? Calling you stupid might be inaccurate, because you’re not. You’re actually cunning to the extreme. You used your father’s connections to push yourself to a position you could have never reached on your own!!
Freya’s voice was loud enough for all the generals and the Mystic Army to hear.
Freya prided herself on being straightforward, and spoke without reservation. However, her words only deepened the disdain of those who already looked down on Sophie. The murmurs of discontent turned into a torrent of insults, overwhelming Sophie.
Violet and the others were livid, their faces turning ashen with anger. If not for the military rules, they would have rushed forward to teach Freya a lesson right then and there. Their anger grew even more when they saw Sophie’s calm demeanor.
Despite Freya’s blatant provocation, Sophie showed no signs of anger. She simply watched Freya in silence, like a mute. She didn’t respond, and her expression remained unchanged. Only her eyes grew darker.
“Sophie!” Rafael took a wooden staff from Dylan, and tossed it to her. “Don’t use the Rose Spear. Use this.
Sophie caught the staff with one hand and tossed the Rose Spear back to Rafael, giving him meaningful look. “Understood, sir,”
She knew what he meant. Blades and spears were dangerous. If she couldn’t control her rage, the Rose Spear might end up taking off Freya’s head.
Freya felt humiliated, and sneered, “Using a staff? Fine! Since you are so confident, don’t blame me for not holding back.”
One with any sense of honor might have discarded their sword in favor of a staff upon seeing Sophie do so, but Freya couldn’t afford to take any chances. The stakes were too high for her to risk failure. This difference underscored the inherent unfairness between them, one based on their status and family. background. Given the existing inequity, using a sword against a wooden staff was not an issue for Freya.
The lonely desert smoke and the setting sun created a stark backdrop. Bonfires were lit, their flames. casting a glow on the battlefield and making it easy to see the two figures standing in the center. Many expected a high-quality duel, filled with rapid exchanges and dazzling moves.
Many were eager to see Freya thoroughly defeat Sophie. They hoped to see Sophie kneeling and begging for mercy, while offering Freya the command over the Mystic Army.
Blake appeared tense as he recalled the two moves Sophie had shown him before leaving the manor and the feints she had used against Michael. He knew Freya couldn’t afford to lose; if she did, all her efforts on the Southern Frontier would be for naught. Worse, she would face fifty lashes.
With that thought, he shouted to Freya, “Stay calm and fight smart!”
Violet, overhearing him, picked up a small stone and hurled it at him. Hearing the whistling wind, he blocked it with his sword, sending the stone flying. He looked towards Violet, who glared at him with eyes full of contempt. Although annoyed, he chose to ignore her.
As Timothy shouted for the match to begin, all eyes focused on the two combatants.
Many soldiers started cheering.
“General Ernst! Beat her to the ground! Don’t hold back
“General Ernst, show your might!”
Freya leaped into the air, gripping her sword with both hands and swinging it down towards Sophie. Her combat skills were entirely practical, this strike had no finesse, only sheer and overwhelming power, As she descended rapidly, it seemed unavoidable that Sophie would be struck, whether she dodged to the left, right, front, or back. The speed was incredible-no fast that the watching soldiers felt they couldn’t evade such a blow
However, Sophie didn’t dodge. She held the wooden staff horizontally, and blocked the sword before her
The sharp sword, descending with immense speed and force, should have split the wooden staff. However, at that instant, the staff seemed to be made of iron and showed no signs of damage. Instead, a loud ching resonated through the air.
The blow sent a painful shock through Freya’s wrists and hands, nearly causing her to lose her grip on the sword.
Freya’s heart raced; she glanced at Sophie’s dark eyes, then at the unmarked wooden staff in her hands. She was astonished.
Could this be no ordinary wooden staff?
Of course! Rafael would go out of his way to protect Sophie. How could he give her an ordinary wooden stick?
With that thought in mind, Freya sneered. “This staff must be more than just a wooden stick, right? It seems the marshal picked the sturdiest weapon for you.”
The wooden staff was as long as the Rose Spear. It was actually just a wooden post meant for building camp structures.
If Freya had paid close attention, she would have realized it was an ordinary stick. Convinced of Rafael’s favoritism towards Sophie, however, she refused to believe he would give her anything ordinary in this challenge.
Many soldiers were unable to see clearly from a distance. They, too, believed Freya’s accusation, thinking Sophie’s staff was a superior weapon. Immediately, cries of unfairness erupted.
“How can an ordinary wooden staff compete with a superior weapon?”
“If that’s the case, let her use the spear. This is a sham!”
“Yeah, it’s not fair!”
The overwhelming outcry surged again. At this, Sophie simply chopped the staff in half with a swift strike. She deliberately left the cut uneven to show it was merely wood.
She then kicked the broken piece towards the soldiers, where one picked it up and confirmed it was indeed just a wooden stick.
Freya’s face paled; she hadn’t expected it to truly be just a wooden staff. Gritting her teeth, she swung her sword at Sophie once more. Her movements were still swift and powerful.
Sophie blocked with the remaining part of the wooden staff. As Freya pulled back her sword for another strike, Sophie pushed the head of the staff with one hand, sending it flying to hit Freya in her stomach.
The wooden staff fell to the ground. With a swift motion, Sophie summoned it back to her hand from a distance.
“Wow!” gasped the crowd, astonished by the feat.
What kind of martial art was this?
“This must be witchcraft!”
“How can she retrieve the staff from the ground like that? It must be witchcraft!”
“It’s called inner force manipulation. Do you even understand? Only a warrior with superior inner force can achieve it,” Violet explained coldly.