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 in, rough clothes of amoner. 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 rity.


    After a long, stunned silence, the crowd erupted into jubnt 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 thest. It was as if the frustrations of thest 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.


    At the same time, Rafael''s presence here was the best way to crush the rumors.


    Once a lie was shattered, the other rumors would be seen as false too-everyone would think this 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 me, do you fear them?" "No, sir!"


    "We don''t!"


    The shouts echoed into the sky.


    Rafael urged his horse forward through the ranks, his voice growing louder. "Tell me, can you defeat the Sandorians?"


    "Yes, sir!"


    The roar was deafening!


    "Is anyone a coward? Step forward!"


    "No, sir!"


    The soldiers stood proud and tall.


    The sunlight shone on Rafael''s face, casting a heroic glow over him. He looked every inch the War God people imed him to be. His voice rang out with undeniable strength, resolute and unwavering. "Now show me, with your actions, that you are all heroes!"


    The sea of soldiers, stretching as far as the eye could see, raised their arms in unison, roaring at the top of their lungs, "Sir, yes, sir!"


    The new Southern Frontier Army,posed of the original Southern Frontier Army, the Sinir Army, and the Hell Monarch Army, raised their banners high, their voices chanting "Victory is ours!"


    They roared over and over, until their throats were raw. Yet the fervor of their words did not wane.


    The rumors had gued them for so long, shaking their confidence. They had almost forgotten that they were once the undefeated Southern Frontier Army, feared by all.


    But now, with the return of their marshal, their spirits had been reignited. It was as if the mes 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 wildfire.


    Rafael rode ahead, his voice ringing out with words of fierce encouragement.


    "There are no deserters in the Southern Frontier! Those who fled are nothing but cowardly traitors, and they will be nailed to the pir of shame!


    "Southern Frontier is our home. Every inch ofnd has been stained with the blood of ourrades. We will defend it with our lives!


    "If the Sandorians think they can take ournd, they''ll have to step over our bodies to do it!


    "No one will shake our resolve to defeat the enemy. We must fight a glorious battle, one that will make His Majesty and all his court see us in a new light!"


    Rafael''s voice carried across the training field, his words powered by his inner force, reaching every soldier with unwavering confidence.


    In response, the air was filled with the sounds of rallying cries, hands raised in passionate cheers,sting for nearly an hour.


    The sunlight poured down like a nket of gold, casting a warm glow on everyone''s faces. The faces grew more determined, eyes sharp with focus.


    The pack of wolves that was the Southern Frontier Army had returned to their full strength.


    Timothy and the others had shouted until their voices were nearly gone. By the time they returned to Redstone Manor, they could barely speak. They gulped down cold well water, the cool liquid soothing their throats, bringing relief to their raw voices.


    Rafael sat in the marshal''s chair, his legs straight but trembling with exhaustion. The two military advisors approached, working to rx his tense muscles. It was clear Rafael had ridden for days, his body stiff from the long journey.


    Rafael leaned back, his body fatigued from the long ride. He hadn''t slept much, not since hearing about Oliver''s escape. He hadn''t even stopped for food and headed straight for Simonton City. When he heard them rallying the troops, he immediately rode over.


    In total, he had spent nearly two hours leading the cheers. At least half of that time had been spent shouting.


    "Marshal Sanford, now that you''re here, we have hope," Louis said, still not believing it and fearing it might be a dream.


    Zachary was known for his toughness and was never one to shed a tear. Yet even he couldn''t hold back his emotions when he saw Rafael sitting there, whole and unharmed.


    Thankfully, the rumors had been false.