Her Majestic Battle Cry

Her Majestic Battle Cry Chapter 867

Chapter 867

It was both frustrating and amusing.

+25 BONUS

Carissa supported the limping Rafael as they slowly made their way down the mountain. His hair was at mess, sticking up in a strange, wet clump after hitting the snow, creating an odd, wild look.

His face was a patchwork of bruises–blue, purple, and red. The red came from a cut that had bled; luckily, the wounds were shallow and, combined with the cold, had stopped bleeding quickly. A lump the size of an egg swelled on his forehead, a sight that was both pitiful and funny.

Fighting, strategizing, and governing were all his strengths, but games like this? He was utterly lost. Sliding down the slope had turned into a comical disaster.

Who knew skiing could be so hazardous?

Everyone knew, not to underestimate water, but mountains could be just as treacherous–especially mountains that only got covered with snow during the coldest days of winter, hiding sharp rocks just beneath the surface. The terrain here was nothing like the Southern Frontier, and back then he at least had armor. Here, he had none.

Rafael was mortified. He never expected that a simple act of skiing could result in such a humiliating tumble. He had hoped for a rare day off to bond with Carissa and create some meaningful memories they could cherish when they were older.

likely remember this day for the rest of her

it?” she asked, noticing

slightly. “Honestly, you don’t need to help me. I

held on tighter, a playful pout in her tone. “No, I want

been thrilled. But right now, he felt defeated and utterly helpless, plus there was an excruciating pain in his foot.

he could lean on her a little,

time to stabilize himself and leverage that moment to spring up. His once–proud Lightfoot Skill had utterly failed

that instant of chaos, all he could think about was how embarrassing it would be for Carissa to witness him fall.

sky. The only thing he felt grateful for was that the trek up the mountain had taken so long, while the descent was swift–though perhaps a bit too

of the mountain, Rafael kept his eyes downcast, and as he caught sight of his trusty mount, a wave of frustration washed over

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Chapter 867

he swung hima omo the horse,

him, wanting to offer some words of comfort–but nothing seemed appropriate given how ridiculous he had

bet this place will be filled with blooming flowers

thoughts of refusal