Her Majestic Battle Cry

Chapter 1318

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The crowd turned their heads at once and saw a horse galloping toward them, dust billowing in its wake. Its rider was wrapped in the warm sunlight, making it hard to see his face clearly.

It looked like who they were expecting, but maybe it wasn’t.

Louis and Timothy both looked up sharply, their eyes instantly reddening. A lump caught in their throats, and they were too overwhelmed to even shout

He wasn’t wearing armor–just the plain, rough clothes of a commoner. From a distance, he appeared ordinary and unremarkable.

The man reined in his horse before the gathered soldiers, his gaze slowly sweeping across them. His face turned slowly, allowing the people in the front row to see it with crystal clarity.

After a long, stunned silence, the crowd erupted into jubilant cries.

“It’s Marshal Sanford! The marshal has returned!”

“Marshal Sanford isn’t dead!”

“With Marshal Sanford here, we’ll surely win!”

“Victory is ours!”

The cheers came in waves, each one louder than the last. It was as if the frustrations of the last battle, the smothered anger, and the hatred for Oliver had all been released at that moment.

The generals watched, tears welling in their eyes. Since Oliver’s cowardly retreat, they had not seen morale so high.

Some people just needed to stand there before the crowd. They didn’t need to do or say anything, yet they could ignite a spark of power and hope in everyone around them.

presence here was the best way

Rafael raised his sword high and called out, “A mere 200,000 enemy soldiers? We’ve defeated them before! We are the new Southern Frontier Army! Do we fear them now? Tell

“We don’t!”

shouts echoed into

horse forward through the ranks, his voice growing louder. “Tell me, can you defeat

“Yes, sir!”

The roar was deafening!

Chapter 1318

a coward?

“No, sir!”

stood proud and

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casting a heroic glow over him. He looked every inch the War God people claimed him to be. His voice rang out with undeniable strength, resolute and unwavering. “Now show me, with your actions, that

the eye could see, raised their arms in unison, roaring at the top of their lungs, “Sir,

Frontier Army, composed of the original Southern Frontier Army, the Sinclair Army, and

roared over and over, until their throats were raw. Yet the fervor of their words did

confidence. They had almost forgotten that they were once the undefeated Southern Frontier Army, feared

of their marshal, their spirits had been reignited. It was as if the flames of their determination had been rekindled, and they longed for nothing more than to march onto the battlefield and fight with everything they had, letting their resolve spread like

ringing out with words

are nothing but

Frontier is our home. Every inch of land has been stained with the blood of our comrades. We will defend it with our

land, they’ll have to step over our bodies to

resolve to defeat the enemy. We must fight a glorious battle, one that will

field, his words powered by

filled with the sounds of rallying cries, hands raised in