Filed To Story: Queen of the Battlefield Her Return to Glory Novel Online Free
They had prepared themselves to fight to the last breath. With Westhaven making such a grand effort to assist, how could they possibly retreat so easily?
Even with Rafael personally on the battlefield, it was a fierce fight. The reality was just as harsh- everywhere was filled with corpses, and the city was drenched in blood. Even the falling snow couldn’t cover up the overwhelming stench of blood.
Simonton City was vast, and beyond the city, there were numerous villages.
Timothy hurried back to the command post. “Marshal, should we pursue them? We need to prevent them from slaughtering the civilians and ravaging the villages.”
“Liam won’t do that, but Victor might. Send General Devin with the Mystic Army to chase them down,” Rafael replied.
Rafael knew Liam well. He was never a warmonger in Westhaven, and atrocities like destroying villages were not something to expect under Liam’s command.
However, Victor had spent many years on the Southern Frontier without achieving any military merit. He might resort to killing civilians out of frustration. With the pursuit underway, Victor would be too preoccupied to commit further atrocities against civilians.
“Understood, sir!”
Timothy mounted his horse, and set off to find Sophie to deliver Rafael’s orders.
Sophie raised her Rose Spear, and shouted, “Mystic Army, follow me! We’re going after the Sandorial soldiers!”
As the Mystic Army moved, the other soldiers followed suit. Their eyes were bloodshot from the battle, and they were determined to witness the Sandoria soldiers flee from Simonton City. Blake, meanwhile, had been searching for Freya amidst the retreat.
He shouted as loud as possible, “Freya! Freya!”
In the midst of the resounding footsteps and chaos, his calls seemed feeble. Without hesitation, he followed Sophie in pursuit…
of the Westhaven forces.
When the two armies clashed within the breached city, Freya led her troops in pursuit of the Westhaven soldiers. Among them were several junior officers dressed in distinctive attire-her primary targets.
What Blake didn’t realize was that Freya had already fallen into the hands
Her plan was to capture these junior officers and use them to force Liam’s withdrawal. If Westhaven retreated, the Sandoria forces would collapse as they couldn’t withstand the pressure.
If she could capture them, she would certainly make a significant contribution!
As she chased them, she realized she was on the right track. The group ahead was clearly trying to avoid fighting, and was heading straight out of the city. These were likely nobles and royalty seeking to make a name for themselves on the battlefield. Their goal was just to show their faces so they could return home and secure a position.
Freya had struck gold with this plan before, so she was determined to see it through. Leading her men, which numbered fewer than a thousand, she pressed on relentlessly.
After chasing for about half an hour, the group ahead finally stopped, gasping for breath. Freya’s men were also exhausted, with some barely able to lift their weapons.
Just as she ordered her men to attack, many Westhaven soldiers, who had been waiting in the alleys, surged out from all directions.
Her head snapped up as she noticed the smug, calculating grins on the faces of the junior officers she had been chasing. It was clear now that she had been lured into a trap. After a relentless chase, her stamina was no match for the well-rested soldiers lying in wait.
A commanding officer’s voice rang out, “Kill everyone except that woman!”
The Westhaven soldiers brandished their large blades, advancing with fierce determination. Their movements were swift and merciless-it was evident that they were highly trained and ruthless killers!The Westhaven soldiers surrounding Freya were numerous. She struggled to hold her ground. Glancing around, she saw even more of them converging on her position.
They hadn’t engaged in the main battlefield but had been lying in wait, preparing an ambush specifically for her. It dawned on her that while her previous use of this tactic had yielded significant gains, this time, it had led her straight into a trap.
Her martial skills, slightly superior to those of her cousin Zeke, allowed her to hold off the attackers for a while. However, her soldiers were falling around her, one by one, into pools of blood. The Westhaven troops showed no mercy, their ruthless efficiency revealing them to be elite forces.
Panic gripped Freya’s heart. She tried to escape, but Westhaven soldiers surrounded her, their long blades blocking any possible retreat. She fought back in desperation and panic, but fear drained her strength. As a blade descended toward her arm, she instinctively pushed a nearby soldier into its path.
The soldier took the blow to his head and face, blood pouring from his wounds. He looked back at Freya with disbelief. They had fought together at Victory Pass, and she had promised to share in their fate, but now…
Freya pushed the soldier aside, abandoning him to the enemy’s blade as she turned and fled. She attempted to use her Lightfoot Skill to bypass the soldiers behind her, but they raised their sharp blades, forcing her to step on them. The pain caused her entire body to tremble as she collapsed to the ground.
Blood flowed from her feet, but the soldiers with the sharp blades merely stood together, blocking her path rather than attacking her further. It was clear now that their intent was to capture her alive. Despair filled Freya’s heart. She could only hope that Blake would come to her rescue.
When he had seen her pursuing the enemy, he had shouted for her not to follow, likely suspecting it was a trap. He would surely come to save her!
All she had to do was hold on. But with the Westhaven soldiers’ ferocity and the excruciating pain in her feet, her efforts to resist were becoming increasingly futile.
Soon, she was struck by several blades. Although the wounds were superficial, the pain made it increasingly difficult for her to defend herself. Her neck was quickly pinned by two swords, and her weapon was knocked to the ground. She dared not move her neck, forced to watch as her soldiers fell one by one, their blood staining the entire road.
“Zeke, save me!” she called out desperately as she noticed Zeke still fighting fiercely.
But soon, Zeke’s neck was also trapped by blades. In addition to Zeke, more than ten others were captured, while the rest were all killed.
After Westhaven troops had secured control, one of the young captains walked slowly towards Freya, holding a bloodied blade. He removed his helmet and took off his golden mask, revealing a face that made her shiver.
His face was strikingly similar to the young general she had captured at Victory Pass. However, this man had a harsher, colder, and more ruthless expression.
“Freya Ernst,” the man called coldly. “I am the third prince of Westhaven, Edmund Tudor. You’ve finally fallen into my hands.”
Freya’s legs went weak.
A prince? Was the captive from Victory Pass also a prince?
Freya took a deep breath. It should have been obvious, and she should have guessed it a long time ago. If the young general she captured at Victory Pass weren’t from the royal family, how could Liam have been so quick to call for a ceasefire and force her to negotiate for his release?
Whether it was the cold or her fear, Freya’s voice trembled slightly. “W-What do you want?”
“What do I want?”
Edmund stared at her with eyes full of hatred, as if he wished he could skin her alive.
“Naturally, I want to give you a taste of your own medicine!”
Freya’s face went deathly pale.
A taste of her own medicine?
She knew very well what she had done to the young general she had captured at Victory Pass.
At the time, the young general had led over a hundred men and fought fiercely. After killing a few of her soldiers, he fled. To capture him, she had ordered the slaughter of several villages in Fawnrun City, suspecting he was hiding among the common people.
She burned with the need to find him to avenge her fallen comrades and establish her own reputation. Moreover, capturing a young general was worth more than killing ten soldiers.
At the time, her intention was straightforward. But after capturing the young general, he had been extremely arrogant, accusing her of violating the treaty between their nations and massacring civilians. His curses were particularly vile, condemning them to be childless and bereft of descendants.