Filed To Story: Queen of the Battlefield Her Return to Glory Novel Online Free
Since she had aimed upward, the needles lodged into the beam. But if she had been facing an enemy, the needles would have struck with lightning speed, so fast that the target wouldn’t have time to react.
She remained dazed for a long time, tears streaming down her face.
This was exactly what she had told Wade. If there were a hidden weapon that didn’t rely on inner force but could still be powerful on its own, she could use it even if gravely injured or on the verge of death. She would be able to take her enemy’s life and avenge herself. Wade had actually created it.
At the time, she had only been speaking casually. She knew how difficult it was to craft such a concealed weapon, especially one disguised as jewelry.
She couldn’t help but sob aloud.
Outside, Rafael had been listening closely. He had heard the sound of the throwing knife earlier, but the needles had been completely silent to him. However, Sophie’s crying reached his ears loud and clear. “Sophie, what’s wrong?” he called out in a panic.
Sophie wiped her tears and opened the door. She held up the bracelet, letting the light reflect off it as she waved it before him.
“This is a gift from my seventh uncle, Uncle Wade.”
Rafael’s sharp eyes immediately noticed that the bracelet was different. What seemed like a crack was in truth a hidden clasp with a mechanism inside.
“It can hold steel needles,” Sophie said excitedly, pulling him inside. She quickly took a few needles from the syringe and began loading them into the bracelet. This time, she filled it to its maximum capacity. It could hold more than twenty needles.
The bracelet’s round design accommodated the slightly flexible steel needles. Once inside, the clasp’s mechanism bent the needles slightly When triggered, the needles would spring straight as they launched, gaining additional acceleration from the snapback motion. This made their force upon release truly extraordinary.
Sophie tested it again, aiming upwards. Her shot missed the mark slightly, and the angle was just a bit off.
Rafael noticed the issue and adjusted the bracelet for her. He rotated the sapphire slightly, shifting it an inch. When the needles launched this time, they shot out straight and hit the correct angle.
“So, if an enemy is in front of me, the sapphire shouldn’t point directly at them? It needs to be offset by an inch?” Sophie asked, intrigued.
“Exactly. If it’s aimed directly at them…”
Sophie removed the bracelet, placed it on the ground, and adjusted its direction. Lying flat on her stomach, she triggered the sapphire. The needles shot out-but instead of flying straight, they arced back toward her original position. In other words, if the sapphire was aligned directly with an enemy, the needles would loop back toward the bracelet’s user. The added tension from the bend increased the force of the needles, making them even deadlier.
“Incredible,” Rafael muttered, clearly impressed. “It’s a reverse mechanism. If you don’t adjust the bracelet, you risk hurting yourself And if the bracelet falls into an enemy’s hands, they won’t know the trick. The moment they activate it, they’ll end up injuring themselves.”
“Why didn’t Uncle Wade mention this? If I hadn’t noticed, I could have hurt myself!” Sophie exclaimed.
Rafael frowned thoughtfully. He doubted Wade would have overlooked such an important detail.
Searching the box where the bracelet had been stored, he didn’t find anything at first. But then he cked noticed a piece of brocade beneath a wooden box that had been set aside.
He lifted it, revealing a fabric covered in dense, handwritten notes.
“It’s a letter from your seventh uncle,” Rafael said, handing it to her carefully. “Do you want to read it?”
Sophie hesitated for a moment before finally taking the letter.
She sat down on the wooden chest, holding the letter in her hands for a long time before carefully unfolding it.
Wade had never been fond of reading. He preferred carpentry, crafting mechanisms, and excelling in martial arts. Dominic had often chastised him, accusing him of neglecting serious pursuits. Even as a military officer, Wade was expected to understand military strategy and tactics, not just rely on brute strength. Dominic had forced Wade to study through threats and even the occasional caning.
But effort without interest-and a near-total lack of talent-meant Wade had never made much progress in academics. His handwriting was notoriously messy. He had once joked that his strokes were a masterpiece of wild grace, a chaotic dance of dragons and snakes that only the truly enlightened could appreciate.
Remembering his words, Sophie glanced at the haphazard script and couldn’t help but agree.
Fortunately, she could make out the general meaning, even if a few words eluded her. What mattered was the content.
The letter explained the concealed weapon’s usage. The mechanism required a slight offset to hit its intended target, just as they had just tested.
It wasn’t a deliberate design choice, Wade clarified in the letter, but rather the result of a rushed process. The war was looming, and there hadn’t been time for refinements. He had promised to make improvements once the battles were over and send her a perfected version as a gift the following year.
He also mentioned the throwing knives, describing how their streamlined shape allowed them to cut through the air at great speed. The thin, razor-sharp blade required less inner force to use, relying instead on skillful technique.
Wade ended the letter by mentioning several designs for other hidden weapons, already sketched and awaiting construction after the war. Once completed, he planned to send them all to her.
The letter contained little else. It was mostly an ode to his own genius, with an unabashed confidence that no one in the next 50 years would surpass his mastery of concealed weapons.
Rafael held a lamp to illuminate her reading, but he didn’t intrude on the contents of the letter. He was lost in his thoughts, remembering Wade’s sacrifice. Wade had fallen at the battle of Victory Pass when Leroy had first appeared. It was the war’s opening skirmish, a disastrous ambush that caught them unprepared. Wade’s life had been one of many lost in that ill-fated engagement.
Sophie folded the letter slowly-once, twice, three times until it was a small square. She opened her sachet and carefully tucked the letter inside.
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, dripping onto the backs of her hands. She didn’t wipe them away. Instead, she turned to another chest. There was still one more box left from her uncle. When she opened it, though, it contained only mundane trinkets. It wasn’t Sophie who made the observation-her seventh uncle had left a note inside the box. Placed neatly on top of its contents, the note read simply: Just mundane trinkets.
Sophie began unpacking the box, one item at a time. Inside, she found a fox fur cloak, leather hides, and warm winter clothing. There was even a pair of white fox fur gloves, so soft and plush that within moments of wearing them, her hands began to sweat. She moved on to the other chests, opening them one by one.
There were several pairs of shoes. Sophie recognized her grandmother’s handiwork in the stitching-two pairs of embroidered shoes and two pairs of soft lambskin boots, each a testament to her grandmother’s love and care.
Among the remaining items were clothes, a few pieces of high-quality emerald still uncut, but no gold or silver jewelry. The conditions at Victory Pass had clearly been harsh for everyone.
“These look like baby clothes,”
Rafael remarked, pulling out a few tiny outfits both for boys and girls He also uncovered two pairs of tiger-head shoes and matching net tiger head hats, placing them carefully on the lid of the chest.
Sophie gently touched the small shoes. Her aunts must have made them, likely around the time she married Blake. Back then, her life had seemed elet predetermined-marriage, children, managing the household, and raising the next generation.
It was the future Melanie had always envisioned for her.
The tiger-head shoes were
Pet exquisitely made, with round, bright eyes and soft, rounded ears. The stitching was meticulous, and the craftsmanship brought the little tigers to life. Sophie imagined that any child lucky enough to wear such shoes would surely feel surrounded by love and blessings.
She carefully put everything back into the box, except for the shoes her grandmother had made.
The bracelet, now fully loaded with needles, she slid onto her wrist. It was her uncle’s gift to protect her, a tool meant to save her life.
“There are still some clothes. Do you want to wear them?” Rafael asked, gesturing to another chest.
Sophie ran her fingers over the fabric, hesitating. Then, she shook her head slowly. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I can’t bear to wear them. If they get worn out, they’ll be gone forever.”
“Then leave them be,” Rafael said gently, “but maybe take them out once a year to wear. That way, you honor their love without letting it go to waste.”
He helped her seal the boxes again, glancing at the throwing knives. “You should take a few of these with you too. They seem useful.”
“Yeah. There’s a leather pouch for it here.” Sophie rummaged through one of the boxes and pulled out a black leather knife pouch.