Chapter 125: A Princess’s Gift
The guerrilla unit operating along the new border of the Ossi Kingdom was buzzing with excitement.
Not only had the surrenderist nobles on the other side seemingly lost their nerve, ceasing their attempts to suppress them, but Princess Givia was coming to visit.
They were on the front lines, facing constant danger, engaging in daily skirmishes with the kingdom’s army, raiding their supplies, and receiving support from sympathizers within the kingdom. Kevin’s recent decree forbidding any aid to the Restoration Army, and the harsh punishments he had imposed, had made it difficult for them to maintain contact with their supporters. Their only motivation, their only source of hope, was Princess Givia’s encouragement.
A few days ago, they had witnessed her Blood Atonement ritual through the celestial broadcast. Although they had been concerned for her well-being, their fears were quickly alleviated by the news of her recovery. Now, they felt nothing but admiration for her resolve, her willingness to confront her mistakes. Her actions had made her seem more human, more relatable.
A leader who acknowledged their flaws was more trustworthy than one who pretended to be perfect. Perhaps Givia’s position in their hearts wasn’t as lofty as before, but wasn’t that a good thing? A princess who stood beside her people was far more deserving of their love and respect than one who sat on a throne, aloof and distant.
The princess had sent a letter, instructing them to regroup and prepare for a decisive battle against Kevin.
And today, she was coming to visit them personally, to deliver a speech, to inspire them before the upcoming war.
Her vanguard had already arrived at their temporary base. It was a special occasion, so all the guerrillas, thousands of them, had gathered, eagerly awaiting her arrival.
The soldiers stood on the hillsides, lining the narrow mountain paths, their gazes fixed on the direction indicated by the vanguard.
“She’s coming!” a soldier with keen eyesight shouted from a high vantage point.
“Everyone! Assemble! Form ranks!” the guerrilla commander shouted, his voice echoing through the valley.
Thousands of soldiers quickly formed ranks. Their equipment was mostly worn and mismatched, their bodies bearing scars from countless battles, but their spirits were high. Their temporary base, chosen for its secrecy, was located in a rugged, mountainous region, making their formation less than perfect, but they stood tall, their determination evident.
Soon, Princess Givia, riding a magnificent horse, appeared around a bend, accompanied by the four heroes she had mentioned in her broadcast—a slender, gray-haired young man, a graceful, golden-haired young woman, a lively, silver-haired girl, and a beautiful, black-haired woman. They were the Restoration Army’s most powerful assets. The soldiers knew that the celestial broadcast, requiring immense magical power, had been the work of the gray-haired young man.
Several heavily laden wagons followed them. The princess had brought not only words of encouragement but also supplies.
“My brave warriors, greetings!” Givia shouted, raising her hand, her voice strong and clear, reaching every soldier, even before she reached them.
“Welcome, Your Highness! Long live the princess! Long live Ossi!” the soldiers roared in unison, their voices echoing through the mountains.
Givia smiled, urging her horse forward. The four heroes followed closely behind, and they soon reached the assembled troops.
The soldiers, seeing their princess up close, trembled with excitement. This gathering meant recognition for their hard work, a chance to finally return to their homeland, to liberate their families from Kevin’s tyranny.
They had volunteered to fight on the front lines. Few feared battle. And they knew that most of the Ossi people now supported their cause. Victory seemed within their grasp.
The princess seemed to have lost some weight since the broadcast, and her right arm, the one she had burned during the Blood Atonement ritual, was noticeably paler than her left arm. They knew she had regrown it.
“Commander Hunter Flower of the Guerrilla Legion, reporting for duty! All five thousand two hundred and twenty-four soldiers present and accounted for! Except for a few injured, all are ready for your inspection, Your Highness!” the commander said, standing at attention before Givia, saluting smartly.
Givia, observing her enthusiastic soldiers and the battle-scarred commander, nodded. “Excellent! General Hunter, your soldiers are in high spirits! You’ve done well these past few months.”
“Long live the princess!” the commander shouted in response.
“My brave warriors, you’ve endured much hardship. Without your sacrifices, our main force wouldn’t have the opportunity to train and prepare. I bring you good news! Our main force is ready for battle! They’re on their way here to join you! The day we overthrow the tyrant Kevin is near! When victory is ours, you will all be rewarded! Those who distinguish themselves in battle will be granted titles!” Givia announced. “But before we begin the rally, I’ve brought you meat, wine, and new equipment. General Hunter, distribute these supplies and ensure everyone receives what they need!”
“Yes, Your Highness!” General Hunter replied, immediately organizing the distribution of the supplies.
Several soldiers from the princess’s escort emerged from the cargo wagons, helping the guerrillas unload the supplies. They were clad in full armor, their helmets gleaming, their swords and shields at the ready. They were clearly elite troops, the princess’s personal guards.
Leona, riding beside Abyss, reached out and pinched his cheek playfully.
“Heehee… This is fun…” she giggled.
Flora, watching them, smiled, amused.
It wasn’t that Abyss enjoyed being pinched by Leona. It was simply that this wasn’t the real Abyss.
But as Leona continued pinching his cheek, her gaze drifted, her face flushing, confusing Flora—what had she thought of now?
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