The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress - Chapter 779

Chapter 779: Chapter 779 She’s Coming
Cindy gave her a reassuring smile, calm and steady.

And just like that, the red haze in Hera’s vision began to lift. The storm in her chest calmed slightly, and the danger lurking in her eyes—the raw, unfiltered fury—slowly retreated into the shadows, waiting.

What Hera didn’t realize at that moment was that the emotions surging within her weren’t originally hers—they were emotions meant to ferment and take root in the heart of the villain.

She had unknowingly teetered on the edge of villainy, and if Cindy hadn’t interrupted her emotional spiral, Hera might have fully crossed that line.

Had she done so, the portion of the female lead’s halo she had taken from Alice would have been automatically returned, and Hera’s fate would have shifted toward that of the story’s villain.

Only later would Hera come to understand this truth: just as she could steal the female lead’s halo and alter the story’s trajectory by affecting others’ destinies, it was also possible to inherit or even absorb the villain’s fate.

After all, the powerful emotions she experienced were identical to what the original villain had once felt when he lost the person he loved most. Those emotions had consumed him, festering into hatred, until all that remained was his thirst for revenge.

Hera had almost followed that same path.

While she could be petty, vengeful, and even ruthless at times, Hera still knew where the boundary lay. Her actions, though flawed, were still grounded in a sense of justice. But the line between righteousness and darkness is thin—and in that moment, she had nearly crossed it.

If she truly embraced the role of a villain, then her fate would become far more difficult—and nearly guaranteed to be one of loss rather than victory. That path, one built on revenge and destruction, would inevitably consume not only her future but also the people she cared about. But Hera didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on such thoughts right now. Time was running out.

“Alright, let’s go. Have the team keep an eye on the surrounding area where the last signal was received,” Hera said, her voice sharp with urgency.

Cindy nodded, then added cautiously, “It seems Sasha knows you too well. He already sent satellite visuals of the area and pinpointed the location. There are still explosions going off around the site.”

As she continued, Cindy’s expression darkened. A flicker of doubt crossed her face, unsure if her words would push Hera over the edge again. But after a brief pause, Hera drew in a steady breath and calmed herself.

No—she couldn’t afford to spiral now. If explosions were still happening, that meant there was still movement. That meant Leo might still be alive.

She had to believe that. It was the only thing holding her together.

And so, without wasting another second, Hera moved. She had no time to waste—not when there was still hope.

She strode out of the changing room with determination in her steps. As she passed, the assembled combatants straightened and saluted her. Hera returned their gesture with a firm nod.

It dawned on her then—she had called them in such a rush that many might not even know the full details yet. Perhaps Cindy had briefed them, but still, Hera felt it was her duty to speak to them directly.

These were seasoned veterans, and they deserved to hear it from her own mouth—not just as their leader, but as someone who needed to rally not only their spirits, but her own.

So, she stopped.

“Everyone,” Hera began, her voice strong despite the weight in her chest, “thank you for coming on such short notice. I know this was unexpected, but we’re facing a real emergency.”

She paused, sweeping her gaze across them before continuing, “We’re going into an active warzone to rescue someone. And this isn’t just a gunfight—it’s full-scale warfare. We don’t have the complete intel on who or what we’re dealing with, but one thing is clear—”

Her eyes narrowed, her tone turning icy.

“—we are not here to show mercy. Our objective is to extract our people—safely and without fail. If possible, capture enemies for interrogation. As for the rest… you know what to do. Prioritize the mission and protect our own.”

A breath.

“And I’m coming with you.”

A wave of shock rippled through the group. Gasps, widened eyes. They had assumed she would stay behind—like Cindy—coordinating from the chopper. But Hera wasn’t the type to sit back while others risked their lives.

Not when the people she loved were out there, fighting to survive.

The fact that Hera would be joining the extraction mission and fighting alongside them on the ground left many of the combatants skeptical. As they looked at her, standing tall in her sleek bodysuit, it was clear she didn’t have the same hardened, battle-worn appearance they did.

She didn’t look like someone trained for relentless gunfights and the chaos of war. To them, she looked more like someone walking into a death trap.

Some of them wanted to speak up, to dissuade her. But the look in Hera’s eyes—unwavering and resolute—silenced them.

There was no room for debate.

Her decision was final.

Left with no choice, they quietly swallowed their protests. Instead, they made a silent pact among themselves: protect her at all costs. There were many of them, and only one of her. As long as Hera didn’t break formation or run off on her own, they were confident they could shield her from harm.

That decision gave them a measure of reassurance—an unspoken strategy to keep things under control without challenging Hera’s authority. Even Cindy, who had initially planned to convince Hera otherwise, saw the determination in her eyes and held her tongue. There was no stopping her now.

After the brief exchange, everyone boarded the military chopper and secured their seatbelts. As the aircraft lifted into the sky, the seasoned veterans methodically checked their weapons, locking and loading with practiced ease. Then, without a word, they closed their eyes—each focusing silently on the mission ahead.

They were serious, composed.

Not a hint of panic.

Hera, on the other hand, was a storm of nerves.

It wasn’t the battlefield that frightened her—it was the fear that she might be too late. That she wouldn’t make it in time. The uncertainty gnawed at her, cold and merciless.

She shut her eyes tightly, silently praying.

Hoping.

Clinging to the desperate belief that she still had a chance.

The only sound in her ears was the rhythmic thrum of the rotor blades, each beat dragging time painfully slow. Sweat formed along her back, despite the cool cabin air. Her body felt cold, but her heart—her heart was twisting, as if being wrenched out of her chest.

Her eyes were red, veins stark against the whites as emotion surged within her. And still, she sat there, holding herself together—barely.

After what felt like an eternity, a voice crackled through their comms. It was Cindy, speaking from the co-pilot seat of the chopper.

“Attention, everyone—we’ll be arriving at the drop zone in three minutes. Get ready.”

Her voice was calm but carried urgency.

“There’s no suitable place to land, so we’ll be making a low pass over an open area. You’ll have to jump. From the drop point, it’s a 500-meter push to the target’s location. Expect resistance.”

She paused briefly, then added grimly, “We can’t get any closer. They’re armed with RPGs, and we can’t risk the chopper getting hit.”

Even as she relayed the information, Cindy’s hands moved swiftly across the controls, steady and focused—doing her part to keep them all alive.