The Queen’s Path

The parking lot had been cleared, and the convoy easily drove out, racing towards Eaton. The equestrian field was ten miles away, and the hover car would take less than five minutes at full speed.

Wilhelmina remained terrified, aware that Kazman had activated communication and sound wave shielding, so she attempted to persuade him instead of shouting.

Kazman struggled to sit up while holding his bleeding head. He saw Wilhelmina and raised his gun.

Before he could fire, a particle beam shot from Wilhelmina’s hand, hitting Kazman’s arm. He screamed as the gun fell to the ground. Wilhelmina fired again, shattering the gun.

“You bitch!” Kazman cursed, clutching his injured hand.

Wilhelmina watched him calmly.

Kazman discovered that the panic and confusion on her face had vanished, replaced by composure and bravery, reminiscent of her heroic ancestor.

Chapter 46

Bright red blood flowed from the front seat to Wilhelmina’s feet. She quickly moved her foot away as the guard beside her stirred, about to wake up.

Wilhelmina picked up a gun and struck the back of his head. The guard collapsed without a chance to struggle. She pulled out his weapon, decoded the lock, and tossed it to Cynthia.

“Can you use it?”

Cynthia nervously swallowed, “I… took a shooting course before.”

“Better than knowing nothing at all.” Wilhelmina searched the unconscious guard and found a multi-functional military package. Opening it, she discovered sedative needles and injected one into each guard and the driver.

The particle beam gun broke the car door lock easily. Wilhelmina and Cynthia pushed the unconscious guards and driver out. Kazman’s body lay face down, and neither girl touched him.

“Close the car door,” Wilhelmina instructed Cynthia. “This car is bulletproof. As long as we stay inside, they can’t harm us.”

Outside, beams of light intertwined.

Modern weaponry no longer produces loud sounds; instead, the impact of particle shells hitting the car resembles hail striking a window.

The attacking force clearly outnumbered the guard squad, having already taken Eton Castle and now ambushing along the road. The guard squad faced significant disadvantages as support troops arrived. They had lost the initiative and were retreating step by step.

Captain Kazman’s communication device flashed on his wrist while his deputy attempted to reach him.

Wilhelmina, suppressing her nausea, took the wristwatch.

“Sir, we need support!” an anxious voice came through the microphone.

Wilhelmina shook her head, turning the volume to maximum.

“Sir? Sir, please respond! Please give instructions!”

She tried to distinguish the two military vehicles struggling amidst the flying beams.

“I’m afraid Captain Kazman can no longer respond,” said the Duchess of Roxton through the communicator, making the deputy tremble.

“Your Highness?”

“Surrender, Deputy,” Wilhelmina spoke with calm, steady composure. “You have no chance of winning. Surrender, or die. I swear I will treat prisoners well.”

Gunfire slightly subsided as the deputy trembled, breathing heavily.

“I want to speak to Captain Kazman.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Wilhelmina said. “Now you’re speaking with the Duchess of Roxton. I advise you to surrender. I will ensure the safety of your life and property.”

“You… what have you done to him?”

Wilhelmina paused, then replied, “I had no choice.”

Gasping and low growling sounds came through.

“Please surrender. Don’t you want to reunite with your family?”

As she spoke, Wilhelmina noticed ten military hover vehicles appearing behind her to support her position. The guard squad looked utterly defeated, having already suffered significant casualties and depleting their weapon energy. Even if they resisted, they couldn’t last more than a few minutes.

“Deputy,” Wilhelmina’s voice softened, “Think of your subordinates. We’ve taken Eton. The Roxton Self-Defense Army is under my command. You’ve lost.”

The communication was cut off.

Wilhelmina put down the communicator and glanced at the wilted Kazman in the front seat, sighing silently.

The military hover vehicles descended, stopping around them. Fully armed soldiers emerged, some surrounding Wilhelmina’s car while others aimed their guns at the guard squad’s vehicles.

Wilhelmina and the others sat in the car, unable to see or hear anything outside, waiting patiently. Cynthia remained vigilant.

However, this clever girl hadn’t asked a single question about the armed personnel.

At this moment, Wilhelmina spoke, and the sentence would remain etched in Cynthia’s memory.

“Do you have a comb, Cynthia? I want to fix my hair.”

Cynthia was momentarily stunned before pulling out a folding comb and a small mirror from her pocket. As a female attendant, she always had these tools.

Her nimble fingers undid Wilhelmina’s braid, smoothed it out, and braided it back up again.

William Minna adjusted her rider’s cap and straightened her clothes. “How do I look?”

“Flawless, Your Highness,” Cynthia said.

She marveled at the resolute look in the duchess’s eyes, noting her confidence throughout the ordeal. Every move seemed rehearsed and methodical, and she was still just a girl not yet eighteen.

When the smell of blood became overwhelming, the surrounding soldiers parted. The car door was pulled open, and a hand in white gloves reached in.

“You are safe now, Your Highness.”

William Minna took a deep breath and extended her hand. The sky was overcast, with dark clouds rolling in the distance and faint thunder rumbling.

On the messy suburban road, a silver-blue military hover vehicle formed a circular enclosure. Fully armed soldiers stood straight, their guns aimed at the surrendered guards.

William Minna was led from the car by Hans Borg, holding her hand. Her boots stepped on gravel and metal fragments, making a subtle cracking sound. Hans Borg held her hand as if treating a noble goddess.

A wind brushed the loose hair around William Minna’s temples. She wore a neat riding outfit, tall and athletic, with elegant posture and a solemn expression. Her azure eyes sparkled with determination and vitality.

William Minna removed her hat and smiled at the officers before her.

“Gentlemen,” she bowed her head, “Thank you for everything you have done. I will remember this and do my best to repay you.”

The officers returned her salute.

“Loyal to you, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” she replied sincerely.

The disarmed guards were taken away in a vehicle. The adjutant looked at William Minna before boarding the car.

“Wait,” she called out.

For safety, soldiers stopped her a distance away. The adjutant watched her warily, silent.

“Sir,” she nodded, “You made the right choice.”

Without waiting for a response, she returned to Hans Borg’s side.

“Has the equestrian competition ended?”

“It should be soon,” Hans Borg replied, looking puzzled. “Aren’t you returning to Eton?”

“I don’t want my people to panic,” William Minna said. “If I rush back now, I can still attend the awards ceremony.”

“Your Highness…” Hans Borg began, wanting to dissuade her.

“This might be the last thing I can do for my people as the Duchess of Rockston,” William Minna continued. “This year’s Flower Festival is destined to be spent in fear and anxiety, so I hope they can enjoy a complete competition before knowing the truth.”

On July 11th, 7383 Imperial Year, at 5 PM, the Duchess of Rockston appeared on the equestrian awards podium, radiant amid applause.

Although the sky was gloomy and rain was imminent, the crowd remained enthusiastic.

The award-winning riders climbed onto the podium, seeing the elegant duchess up close.

The first-place rider suddenly knelt on one knee before William Minna, as if about to be knighted.

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