The Spoilt Beauty And Her Beasts-Chapter 630: Put me down or I will use my fan on you

Chapter 630: Chapter 630: Put me down or I will use my fan on you

Somewhere near the south side, a masked attacker tried to be clever and throw a flaming jar over the wall.

Isabella saw the arc out of the corner of her eye and flicked her fan in that direction almost without thinking.

A sharp wind blade shot out and hit the jar mid air, shattering it. The fire spilled uselessly in the snow outside.

The masked man below froze. His head snapped up, and his eyes locked on her silhouette on the wall.

Even though he could not see her face clearly, he could feel the strange pressure her presence brought.

"That must be her," he thought. "The pregnant goddess with the fan."

His gaze darkened. He adjusted his mask and signaled to two of his companions. They changed formations, starting to shift their attack angle toward her.

The fight continued like that for what felt like a long time. In reality, only the span of a cup of tea had passed.

The villagers moved quicker than before, their training showing. Someone banged a stone drum to send messages. "North side stable. East under heavier attack. South, prepare to intercept possible retreat."

Every time one of the attackers tried to climb, they were met by claws, arrows, or a slice of wind. It did not take long for the masked group’s leader to realize this place was much, much harder to chew than the small winter village he had imagined.

"Retreat," he signaled finally, his heart bitter. "We will be useless sacrifices if we stay. The master did not ask us to die pointlessly."

Reluctantly, the group began to pull back. They moved surprisingly neatly even while retreating, covering each other’s backs and dragging away injured comrades. Some bodies still remained in the snow, their blood slowly soaking into the frozen ground.

On the wall, villagers let out short, harsh breaths. Their muscles trembled, but their eyes were bright with the high of surviving a real test.

"Do not chase them too far," Kian called, his voice cutting through the excitement. "They will not go far in this weather. We must first secure our own. Count the wounded, check the outer walls for damage. Make sure no one is hiding under the wall."

He turned to Isabella. "You see?" he said quietly. "They came for you." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Isabella slowly closed her fan. Her hand was a little sore from all the swinging, and her back ached more than before. But her heart was strangely satisfied.

"Good," she said softly. "Now I know what kind of flies are circling the meat."

Kian stared at her for a moment. A corner of his mouth almost lifted.

"You are not afraid at all," he said.

"I have too many things to protect to waste time being afraid," she replied. "I will be afraid later, under my blankets, when nobody is watching."

Inside, she knew this was only the first touch. People like the ones who came tonight never attacked only once.

The rumors about her and her village were reaching ears that had power and money. The next time might not be just a small testing bite.

She carefully stepped down from the wall. Her body had already started complaining, sending small cramps down her spine. As if sensing it, Zyran appeared suddenly and scooped her into his arms in a bridal carry without warning.

"Let me down," Isabella snapped automatically, cheeks flushing.

"In this lifetime, that is impossible," Zyran said cheerfully, hugging her tighter. "My pregnant goddess will not walk down steps after a fight. You can scold me from my arms instead."

Around them, some of the younger guards pretended not to see, their ears turning red as they exchanged shy grins.

Their goddess was fierce on the wall, but she was also someone who could be carried away while pouting. The picture made their hearts lighter.

"Put me down or I will use my fan on you," Isabella threatened.

Zyran only laughed, his teeth flashing. "Only if you promise to hit me gently."

The night did not end just because one group decided they had enough. The attackers had split their forces on purpose.

While the main body retreated, pockets of masked beastmen still lingered like thorns around the village, probing for soft places. Some had circled around to the west side where the wall was newer and the watchtowers fewer.

Isabella had just reached the inner courtyard when one of the guards rushed in, breathless.

"Madam Isabella," he said urgently. "There is another group near the west wall. Smaller, but they are aiming at the path that leads directly to the stone palace. His Majesty has gone, but..."

Before he could finish, Isabella’s expression had already turned cold. She told Zyran to put her down and went back up a different set of stairs that led closer to the west side.

Her steps were slower now. Her legs felt heavy, and her stomach pulled at her balance, but her grip on the fan was firm.

On the west wall, the air felt thinner. There were fewer men here. The masked attackers had targeted that weakness accurately.

A handful of them had already made it onto the walkway, blades flashing in the torchlight as they clashed with the defenders.

Isabella stepped onto the wall just in time to see one of her guards stagger back, blood on his arm, as a masked man in boar form charged forward, tusks low. She did not have time to think.

She pressed the first and second buttons almost at the same time, and the fan responded with a sharp, hungry thrill.

"Go," she whispered.

A wind blade shot out, slicing across the boar’s flank. He screamed as the skin split, and his charge faltered. At the same time, a gust shoved him sideways, making him slam into the inner parapet instead of the bleeding guard.

The guard gave Isabella a look full of grateful worship.

"Goddess," he breathed.

"Watch your footing, not my face," Isabella snapped, though her lips twitched. "Fight."

She moved down the wall, each swing of the fan measured. She could feel the strain building in her back, but her mind was strangely focused.

Each attacker she knocked down was one less hand that could reach the palace. Some of the masked men had realized exactly who she was by now. She could feel their stares, hungry and angry, prickling against her skin.