The Queen Who Fights Back (by Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 156

Chapter 156

The reason Nova Blake created the Bloodred Task Force was the Battle of Millinger in Arion. Back then, she had no allies to call for help, and ended up paying the ultimate price.

She suffered the heartbreaking loss of Marlie and Falcony.

What was lost could never return.

Nova Blake was never the kind of person who got hung up on the past.

After taking that lesson by heart, and determined not to let anyone in her squad stab her in the back again, Nova formed a new group–one totally separate from the Bloodblade Mercenary Corps.

The Bloodred Task Force!

Not even Ghost–Hammer or Snowfang had a clue about it.

Nova built the Bloodred Task Force for one reason only: to make damn sure that nightmare would never happen again.

She’d already cut ties with the Crimson Web.

Nova sat on a stool not far from the hospital bed.

She propped her hand on the windowsill, eyes closed, looking like she was resting

But in reality, her nerves were stretched tight.

She was on high alert, scanning every corner of the room.

Nova had always been a master at keeping her nerves in check. Even knowing Ghost–Hammer was probably already lost, she forced herself to catch some light yet steady sleep on the plane–just enough to make sure she’d be ready for whatever came

next.

She reminded herself she had to stay sharp–one slip–up, one moment of weakness, and she could lose the only shot she’d have to rescue Ghost–Hammer.

But on top of that, even though Nova had just pulled off Ghost–Hammer’s rescue, this was actually the riskiest phase.

With Ghost–Hammer knocked out cold, he was an easy target–if someone tried anything now, it’d be the prime time to finish him off.

By “finish him off,” Nova meant if she slipped up for even a moment, some disguised assassin could storm the room and cut Ghost–Hammer’s throat before she had a chance to react.

All her hard work would be for nothing.

The room was so still. It was almost unnaturally silent.

Time seemed to stretch on forever.

It dragged on until the cicadas outside broke the silence with their constant drone, filling the night air.

The air was thin and cold.

It was the early hours–no voices, no movements, just silence.

This clinic was nothing like the hospitals back home. It was rundown and damp, with peeling paint and a musty smell

hanging in the air.

The patient rooms, the shabby little operating theater, and the doctor’s office were all on the first floor.

At this hour, the clinic was cloaked in a gloomy, eerie silence, with only the room Nova was guarding still lit up.

It felt like some haunted house deep in the woods.

The chilling silence pressed in, but Nova caught the faint sound of footsteps.

Without giving herself away, she opened her eyes, slipped her hands behind her and drew two pistols in one smooth

motion.

Nova’s voice cut through the darkness, icy and unshakable: “Who’s there?”

She showed no fear that a teenager might have and no one would catch her flinching at the dark.

She strode to the bedside, guns raised and aimed at the door, her voice cold as steel.

Her voice was icy, cold as winter, showing zero emotion.

It was clear–if whoever was outside didn’t answer in three seconds, she’d shoot first and ask questions later.

“Uh, it’s me…”

Madan’s voice drifted in from outside.

Less than three seconds later, Madan scratched his head awkwardly and stepped into the room.

When Madan found himself staring down the barrel of Nova’s gun, his legs nearly buckled beneath him. The way she was ready to shoot at the slightest threat–it honestly freaked him out.

He never thought she’d be this paranoid–level cautious.

“I–I got Jake and the others settled in the motel across from the clinic,” Madan stammered.

“We all managed to catch a bit of sleep, so I came to see if you wanted a break as well.

“You gave him so much blood–more than most people could even handle and you’ve been running on fumes all night.

“You’ve gotta be really exhausted.

“If you don’t mind, I could keep an eye on him for you…”

Madan stammered, his eyes glued to the guns in Nova’s hands.

Nova holstered her guns.

Her guard didn’t drop for a second, though.

“No. Go back,” Nova said, her voice as cold as ice.

She clearly had no intention of letting Madan into the room.

Madan might’ve been a low–tier merc, but he was no fool–he knew Nova had zero trust in him.

“Okay, uh, I just came over to say, I’m taking Jake Davis and other guys back to the guild tomorrow.

“Not sure if we’ll ever bump into each other again, but… I’ve been meaning to tell you, you’re kinda my idol…

“I know it sounds kinda wild. There is no way for someone like my idol to be in a place like this, talking to someone as ordinary as me.”

“Maybe I’m just imagining things… but honestly, you really feel like my idol.

“Sorry, I’m probably talking too much.

“Meeting you was pure luck. Maybe we’ll run into each other again someday.”

Madan gave Nova a sheepish smile and a nod, then turned to head out.

“With your skills, you could totally make it into the Carbone Mercenary Guild in Salion,” Nova said quietly, eyes lowered–a rare, somber bit of advice.

“It’s a way better place for newcomers like you to grow than Kata City.

“Goodbye.”

Madan could tell–Nova never said more than she had to. The fact she actually offered him advice about his future felt like a rare privilege.

For a second, Madan was floored. It almost felt like his idol had just handpicked him for the future.

“Thank you! Once I wrap up this job, I’ll head straight over and try out for the Carbone Mercenary Guild in Salion. Seriously -thanks for the advice!” Madan blurted out, eyes shining with excitement.

He spun around, gave Nova a deep, respectful bow, and then dashed out of the room at full speed.

In this world, some people were just passing strangers–if you were lucky, you’d cross paths on your journey and that would be the only meeting you’d ever get.

A single glance, and that’s all it ever was. Then there was a lifetime apart, never meeting again.

Over her ten years as a mercenary, Nova had run into plenty of rookies like Madan.

Back when she first started out, she was just another nobody in the crowd–one of the most ordinary low–tier mercs out there.

She’d only made it to the top by sheer luck–nothing more, nothing less.

Ghost–Hammer coughed weakly, his voice raspy as he called out, “Boss…”

Just as Madan left, Nova heard Ghost–Hammer’s faint cough behind her–so weak it was almost lost in silence.

Nova spun around, closed the distance in three swift steps, and effortlessly slid her twin pistols back into their holsters.

She lowered her gaze, eyes shadowed as she glanced at Ghost–Hammer, her face unreadable.

“You’re awake?” Nova asked quietly, her voice steady with just a hint of concern hidden beneath the calm.

Her voice was calm and detached, as if she wasn’t actually worried about Ghost–Hammer’s injuries.

Chost–Hammer was huge, tough as steel, but underneath all that muscle, he had a surprisingly sharp and thoughtful side.

Obviously, he’d been awake for quite a while, quietly listening to Nova and Madan talk.

Ghost–Hammer pressed his hand to the spot where he’d been shot, using his iron–hard chest to help prop himself up before he spoke.

“Boss, that kid just said you gave me more blood than your body shoulda been able to handle…” Ghost–Hammer said, his voice rough but genuinely worried.

He knew better than anyone just how bad his injuries were, and how much blood he’d lost.

Especially in a place like Kata City, where medical care was basically nonexistent.

After being chased to the brink by Monde and his crew, Ghost–Hammer finally saw Nova show up.

That bloodstained, genuine smile he gave her? Deep down, he was sure he was about to die right there.

If he could just see Nova one last time before he went to the end, he’d die with no regrets.

But he never saw this coming.

She was always the boss at the top–stone–cold, all business, never cracking no matter what. When Marlie and Falcony died, he and Snowfang bawled their eyes out, but Nova? She didn’t shed a single tear. Not one.

And yet, here she was, willing to mess up her own body just to save him.

To Ghost–Hammer, she’d always seemed cold as ice, like nothing in the world could touch her–not even life or death.

“Yeah? So what if I did?” Nova replied, her voice low, almost indifferent.

She kept her gaze down, answering quietly.

To her, risking her own health by giving Ghost–Hammer so much blood was barely worth considering.

Nova clearly didn’t give it a second thought.

“No, it’s nothing…” Ghost–Hammer muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

He went quiet.

As Nova’s loyal right–hand, he’d always treated some memories like forbidden ground–locking them up deep inside, never daring to speak of them.

This was the first time Ghost–Hammer had ever let a piece of the past slip between them.

“Boss, do you remember? This is where the five of us first joined forces…” His words were rough but carried the weight of buried history.

“There’s something I’ve held back for a long time…” Ghost–Hammer finally admitted, his voice low as memories surfaced.

“Snowfang, Marlie, Falcony, and me–we all saw you as a real family, the people we cared about most in this messed–up

world.

“All it ever took was your word. We’d charge through hell and back for you, not caring whether we lived or died.”

The giant looked down, his usual tough–guy gaze clouded with emotion–a heart too big for his hammer–sized body, torn between sadness and frustration.

“Back then, the four of us truly believed you felt the same… that you saw us as your closest family too.”

“I’m sorry, Boss,” Ghost–Hammer said, his voice thick with regret, each word heavy with guilt.

“I have to admit, just like Snowfang, there were times I doubted you too.”

“After the Battle of Millinger, when Marlie and Falcony died, you didn’t let a shred of grief show. Watching you, it almost felt

like they never truly mattered to you, like we were just fooling ourselves thinking we could ever be your family…”