A Female Alpha’s Revenge

Chapter 44

Third Person’s POV

+8 Pearls

Adelaide licked the blood from her lips and drank the last swallow of wine from the bag.

The distant smoke, mixed with the scent of blood, drifted from Frostbite Town, whose walls loomed in the dusk.

Her silver spear dragged a long blood streak on the ground. Her heartbeat matched the heavy rhythm of the wolf–head flag in the night wind.

This was just the beginning. Velda’s debts and the Western Tribes‘ hidden blades would all be settled here on the southern border.

Alpha Lance adjusted tactics with precision, leading the charge like a well–oiled machine, his golden–trimmed blade cutting through enemies.

The blade sliced through the Western Tribes‘ wolf warriors‘ armor, avoiding fatal spots to leave deep gashes around joints–a psychological tactic to overwhelm the enemy’s medical capacity.

This wasn’t mercy.

As a werewolf general with a decade of experience on the southern border, Lance understood. better than anyone: overwhelming the enemy’s medical capacity with casualties was more intimidating than direct kills.

When Dragon Ash warriors had to allocate a third of its forces to treat the wounded, it exposed a fatal weakness.

No general would ignore the wounded, as it would crush morale.

By nightfall, the battle ceased.

fell silent, crows flew past

picked up Adelaide’s wolf–head

droplets on the blade froze into tiny crystals. “Three hundred and seventeen confirmed kills–the Warscar Training Camp should erect a statue

face was caked

Lance gave her a

for merit–it was her father’s wish to reclaim

and brothers had perished here. Even if she was the sole survivor of

Chapter 44

+8 Pearls

Lance gazed at Adelaide’s weather–beaten face. When she’d arrived, the wind had painted. her cheeks a ruddy hue, like overripe fruit, but

was hard–pressed to

blood from the battlefield, strands sticking

bloodied, with no patch of clean skin visible beneath the

looked more disheveled than a street

he used to see at the Warscar Training Camp–full of life and fire.

croaked, her chapped lips parting to utter a

“We’re all

Adelaide said weakly, “Can’t even stand

suddenly gripped her shoulders, his cold blade glinting against the molten fire in his eyes. “Listen, Adelaide Davidson–since the founding of our werewolf kingdom, no general has achieved such a record in their first

Adelaide snapped her head up, the ice shards on her ears

like a war drum being struck, leaned on her silver spear, and strode out, her bloodied cloak trailing behind. Each step left crimson claw

from behind, a bittersweet smile playing

since she was little, once

through the blockade with salted