The Scarred Queen's Rise (Athena) novel Chapter 762

**TITLE: Fake Girl 762**

Athena’s gaze was locked onto Xander, her eyes mirroring every contour of his figure, as if she were trying to imprint him into her memory. The world around her faded into a blur; all that existed was him. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his face, the warmth radiating from his skin sending a shiver through her.

An overwhelming rush of emotions surged within her, a tumultuous wave of joy intertwined with sorrow, crashing against her heart like a relentless tide. It felt as though something had struck her heart with a heavy blow, leaving her breathless.

Suddenly, darkness enveloped her vision, and a wave of weakness swept over her, rendering her body limp.

“Athena!” Xander’s voice sliced through the haze as he instinctively caught her, his reflexes sharp and swift. His hands cradled her gently, and he quickly assessed her condition, confirming with a sigh of relief that she had simply fainted from sheer exhaustion.

With care, he lifted her, cradling her form against him as he turned to navigate through the city, his heart pounding with urgency. In the distance, Ray observed the scene, his heart heavy with disappointment and confusion.

Why? Why was Athena being so cruel to him? The thought gnawed at him—she had wanted to end his life, hadn’t she?

“Your Majesty, we must retreat at once,” urged his confidant, his sword slicing through the air as he defended Ray against the onslaught of arrows raining down.

Ray felt the tension in his chest begin to ease, though his clothes were tattered, exposing the soft armor beneath, intricately woven with gold threads. If it hadn’t been for that armor, he knew he would have met his end at Athena’s hand.

He cast a lingering glance in the direction where Athena had vanished, a mix of longing and frustration churning within him. His confidants, recognizing his turmoil, pulled him away from the battlefield. “Your Majesty, we must go. As long as there is life, there is still hope,” they urged, their voices a steady anchor in the chaos.

Despite Xander’s forces being outnumbered—only 50,000 against the 100,000 of Northcold—his strategic brilliance divided their troops into three routes, allowing them to break through the enemy lines. The morale of the soldiers surged, and Northcold found itself in retreat.

Ray had no choice but to withdraw to Ramberg with his army, where the rugged terrain provided a temporary sanctuary. For several days, they faced the Petanion army, both sides evenly matched, neither willing to yield.

When Athena finally opened her eyes again, she found herself bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window’s lattice, casting intricate patterns on the sumptuous brocade quilt beneath her. The faint scent of medicine lingered in the air, soothing yet unfamiliar. She moved her fingers, feeling the warmth of skin beside her, and her heart fluttered as she realized Xander was there, sleeping peacefully by her side. His armor had been removed, revealing a bandage soaked in blood wrapped around his arm, a stark reminder of the battle they had just endured.

With her other hand, she instinctively grasped her own, as if anchoring herself to the moment. The instant Xander felt her movement, his eyes flew open, revealing a mixture of relief and joy that flooded his features.

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