The Queen Who Fights Back (by Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91

“Nova, today’s the school queen contest! If you don’t step up on that stage, the crown won’t come to you!” Sophia’s voice rang out urgently from the classroom.

“Seriously, don’t you care at all about being the most popular girl around here?” she pressed again, her tone insistent.

But Nova was already climbing out the classroom window before Sophia’s words could reach her fully. Even as she slipped through the narrow opening, she could still hear Sophia’s shouts fading behind her, echoing down the hallway.

Freshman Year Class A was situated on the third floor of the school’s main building, perched on the west side—a good distance from the bustling corridors below.

Jumping from a third-floor window, roughly twenty-five feet above the ground, would typically mean a broken leg or worse for most students. But for Nova, it was nothing more than a simple leap. She bent her knees slightly, dropped down with practiced ease, and landed on the balls of her feet as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The students who happened to be passing behind the building caught sight of her daring jump and stood frozen, their jaws slack and eyes wide with disbelief. It was as though their brains had momentarily shut down, unable to process what they had just witnessed.

When they finally blinked and looked again, Nova had already vanished, as if swallowed by the air itself.

Meanwhile, at the east gate, the school’s security guard was humming a nostalgic tune while brewing a fresh cup of coffee. Leaning in, he inhaled the rich aroma deeply, savoring the moment before taking a slow, appreciative sip.

But just as the coffee was about to touch his lips, his gaze shifted to the gate where a tall girl with long, powerful legs was sprinting toward him. Even from a distance, her silhouette was striking and swift.

“Whoa!” the guard exclaimed, startled.

He quickly rose from his chair, pushed open the door to the guardhouse, and muttered under his breath as he stepped outside to intercept her.

“Hey there, young lady! This is the school gate—what’s going on? Where are you headed?” he called out, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Whoa, wait—hold on, you—” he stammered, unsure how to react.

Before he could fully process the situation, something extraordinary happened. The girl became a blur, charging toward the gate with lightning speed. Planting one foot firmly, she propelled herself into the air and soared effortlessly over the eight-foot-high gate.

She landed flawlessly on the other side, not breaking a sweat.

From mid-air, the guard caught her voice, clear and teasing as she called out, “Freshman Year Class A, Nova Blake—first time skipping school!”

Her tone was filled with pride, almost as if she wanted the whole world to hear.

By the time the guard recovered from his shock, the audacious girl had already disappeared from sight, leaving him rubbing his beard in disbelief.

In his thirty years as a security guard, he had never seen anyone skip school so brazenly—shouting their name and class as they made their escape.

“Unbelievable… just outrageous!” he muttered, his beard twitching with a mix of frustration and admiration.

Once Nova cleared the gate, she headed straight toward the location of the task force selection.

As she ran, the golden rays of the early morning sun bathed her in light. Turning a corner, she faced the rising sun, feeling its warmth kiss her forehead. Her tall shadow stretched long across the pavement, a silent companion on the path ahead.

This was the beginning of a new chapter for her.

Harrison had told her the task force selection was being held at the U26 War Zone in Ravenport.

The U26 War Zone base sat on the outskirts of Ravenport, less than five kilometers from Saint Laurel Royal Academy. Nova didn’t even need a taxi—she could easily run there in minutes.

Thanks to Harrison’s personally signed recommendation letter, gaining access to the war zone base was a breeze.

She made her way directly to the spot where the task force selection was underway.

The area was mostly deserted, surrounded by colorful shipping containers neatly lined up along the perimeter.

Ahead loomed a massive factory-like shed, its interior swallowed in darkness no matter how the sunlight tried to penetrate.

Scattered across the open lot were thirty or forty candidates, each keeping their distance from one another, as if strangers sharing the same uneasy space.

Nova was among the last to arrive.

Instantly, she stood out—youngest among them all, drawing curious glances from the others who sized her up silently.

“You’re Nova, right?” a woman in charge of sign-ups approached, holding a registration booklet and pen.

She stopped right in front of Nova, ready to record her details.

“Yeah,” Nova replied coolly, slipping one hand into her pocket with casual confidence.

“This is amazing! I always wondered what Maxwell’s little sister would be like… I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you here!” he said, clearly excited.

Usually, candidates didn’t engage in conversation during these selections, so the curious onlookers couldn’t help but focus on their interaction, eager to see what would happen.

Nova simply dipped her chin in a cool, matter-of-fact nod, unfazed by the attention.

Once Andrew snapped back to reality, he blurted out, “Wait, you just returned home—why show up here? This is the war zone, you know…”

He couldn’t help but wonder, ‘What’s a teenage girl like her doing in a place like this?’

“This isn’t a playground—it’s a pre-battle training ground where everyone’s handling guns and blades!”

Nova narrowed her eyes but didn’t shy away.

“Just like you,” she said firmly, “I’m here to compete for a place on the task force.”

One of those four coveted spots—she was determined to claim hers.

Hearing a teenager speak with such conviction sent a ripple of unease through the crowd.

At the front, a woman with medium-short hair scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re just a teenage girl. I have no idea what strings you pulled to even get into this selection.”

“Blake family heiress, huh? What, did you get in because of your family’s connections?”

“Why bother coming here at all? You could be living the good life as a rich little princess. This place isn’t for someone like you!”

She glanced around at the others.

“Look around—everyone here has battlefield experience. Special forces, commandos, intel officers, or top military academy grads…”

The woman snorted again.

“And you, little schoolgirl? No battlefield experience, thinking you can grab a spot on the task force? Please—you’re dreaming.”