Chapter 61

The faint scent of blood diffused through the surrounding air.

Edith sat cross-legged by the campfire in a casual posture, meticulously wiping her longsword. The sharp glint of the blade seemed capable of tearing through space itself, striking fear into the heart of any observer.

The Golden Cavalry was stationed in an open clearing outside the town of Rosic. Only the occasional crisp crackle of burning firewood could be heard; the entire encampment was as quiet as a drifting phantom.

The people of Rosic only dared to look from a distance, not daring to draw near.

Their golden armor was equally conspicuous in the pitch-black night; from afar, they looked like a surge of shifting sand that could easily claim your life if you let your guard down for even a moment.

This unit of unknown origin had arrived suddenly two days ago. Wherever their blades passed, blood splattered like spilled ink. The tragic, piercing wails of the Hittite army and the terror in their eyes intertwined, lingering long after the clash.

Amidst the sparks of clashing weaponry, the Golden Cavalry had moved with magnificent momentum—resolute, fearless, and silent—driving back the Hittite forces stationed there with the speed of a lightning strike.

Like lightning tearing the sky.

Like thunder shaking the mountains and rivers.

It was a sight to make eyes widen in shock and hearts tremble with awe.

Rosic, located northeast of Kadesh and adjacent to the Suez Canal, was the only pass held by the Hittites in the southern Mediterranean. Egypt understood the importance of guarding the Suez Canal for trade across the five seas and three continents—and Egypt’s neighbors understood it even better.

Hittite had spared no expense, sending heavy troops to garrison [read the original at bailiantales.com]Rosic. In the face of such profit, few could remain indifferent.

Ruthless, indifferent, defiant…

Edith sat by the campfire. When Heshi looked up and saw that familiar figure, a thousand words caught in her throat. She could not accurately describe the complex aura surrounding Edith; the muscles in her cheeks trembled uncontrollably.

Her excited expression complemented her travel-worn appearance.

This was the deity she had always followed, her faith in Egypt, the King to whom she would sacrifice her life. Even if cast into the mire, into the abyss, into a place of no return where rumors fly, she knew that if she only looked up, that spark of light would surely guide her out of the endless depths.

“My King.”

“General Heshi, welcome back.”

In those amber-gold eyes was an indifference that had remained unchanged from the start, though an almost imperceptible ripple vanished into the corners of her eyes.

It took a long time for Heshi to regain her composure. The words she had prepared in her heart now seemed pale and powerless.

Edith waited for Heshi to calm down. The two had grown up together; their bond was not limited to childhood companionship, but more importantly, to the trust born from countless times they were forced to fight for their lives together.

Through countless battles where they were at a disadvantage, countless times bathing in warm blood while hovering between life and death—returning to the army almost instinctively reignited the fighting spirit engraved in her bones.

Gallant and fearless, fighting without dread.

For faith, for Egypt.

“General Heshi, your sword.” Edith naturally produced the longsword representing the status of an Egyptian commander and handed it to Heshi.

“King…” Heshi remained kneeling upright, looking at Edith without taking the sword. The camp was pitched on fine, soft sand, and two deep pits had already formed where Heshi knelt.

Edith smiled faintly, standing up as if she didn’t mind. She placed the sword before Heshi and dropped a casual remark: “General Heshi, my deal with Princess Manefertiti is real, but the choice is a right I grant to you.”

Heshi’s expression shifted slightly, as if she had realized something.

Edith stood with her hands behind her back, her instantaneous surge of majesty blending perfectly with her heroic, handsome attire.

She turned and walked into the tent with measured steps, repeating her earlier words: “General Heshi, welcome back.”

“Yes, my King.”

The response was forceful and clear, echoing through the night that had only feigned its silence.