Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 104: Chaos 2

Chapter 104: Chaos 2

The plan was for the children to attack first, to throw the soldiers in chaos, then the women should follow. They were confident that the soldiers would not hurt the women. They have strong morals. Then they would come and beat the soldiers.

Even if they were subdued, they should be able to inflict some degree of injuries on the soldiers.

But what just happened? The women didn’t seem to have injuries on them, how did they trip? His gaze landed on a young soldier, sitting cross-legged beside a basket of longan, leisurely plucking one up, peeling its skin, and popping the sweet flesh into his mouth. Then, with an almost lazy flick of his fingers, he sent the seed flying.

To the untrained eye, it looked like she was throwing them at random. But each flick was precise—every seed hit a knee, a shin, or an ankle just right, causing the unfortunate recipient to stumble and collapse.

Agilus and Aramis, watching the unexpected spectacle, exchanged glances before stepping forward. Agilus picked up a seed and flicked it, grinning—

Smack! Lara’s hand slapped his.

"Can you control your strength?" she scolded. "What if you actually hurt them?"

Agilus blinked, confused. He turned to Kane. Wasn’t he already hurting them?

Aramis, unfazed, casually spat out a seed and flicked it.

A second later, the disguised Estalis commander—hidden among the elderlies—let out a strangled yelp as a longan seed struck his wrist. His hoe slipped from his grasp, clattering loudly against the ground.

"Ahhh! Damn you!" a woman who was still on the ground cursed, kicking the hoe that hit her leg. The metal part of the hoe landed on the commander’s foot, hitting his big toe.

He bit his lips as he suppressed the instinct to shout. It hurt so much.

"Ahh!" He could not take it anymore and let out a scream.

The tension shattered. Whatever semblance of organization the people of Carles had attempted was now in complete disarray.

Lara, watching the growing chaos, merely smirked and reached for another longan.

Alaric loomed over Lara, his presence commanding yet oddly gentle. His broad frame cast a shadow over her as he reached out.

"Can I have some?" His voice was soft, almost intimate, a stark contrast to the chaos around them.

Lara glanced up, her gaze locking onto his. She hadn’t expected to see admiration in his obsidian eyes.

"Great hit," he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear. His lips curved slightly. "Not a single miss."

Lara’s eyes blinked innocently.

Then, just as effortlessly, he plucked a few longans from the basket and turned away, leaving her frozen in place.

Lara followed him with her eyes, still trying to decipher the look he had given her. Something about it unsettled her. She was still deep in thought when a movement at the edge of her vision snapped her back to the moment.

Briella—the fiery speaker of the group—had retrieved the fallen arrow. Her face twisted with hatred as she gripped the shaft tightly, her fingers white with rage.

"It’s you!" she spat, her voice shrill with fury. "You’re the one ruining everything!"

With all her might, she hurled the arrow straight at Lara.

Lara smirked, already raising her hand to catch it. But before her fingers could close around the wooden shaft, the arrow came to an abrupt stop.

Lodged between Alaric’s index and middle fingers.

Alaric didn’t even flinch. With a slow, measured pace, he stepped toward Briella, his grip on the arrow tightening just slightly.

She stared up at him, momentarily struck speechless. His features were sharp, strikingly handsome, but his gaze burned like a storm, dark and unrelenting. The weight of his presence pressed against her, suffocating, stealing the very air from her lungs.

"Tell whoever sent you," Alaric said, his voice low and lethal, "to face us like a real man. Sending children, women, and the elderly—doesn’t he feel shame?"

Briella opened her mouth to retort, but no words came. The rage that had fueled her just moments ago drained from her face as she took an involuntary step back.

Alaric advanced.

"You call us murderers, you paint us as monsters, and yet you dare flaunt yourselves in front of us like this." Alaric’s voice was smooth yet laced with danger.

His following words sent a shudder through her.

"My men are only human," he continued, his tone deceptively calm. "Since you’ve come willingly—offering yourselves as bait—I see no reason to refuse the gift. My men need women to serve them. Ten thousand soldiers. A thousand of you. Not bad."

The blood drained from Briella’s face.

"You..." Her voice trembled. "You’re a devil."

Alaric’s lips curled in a smirk, but his eyes remained cold. "You were the one who branded us as such. Since you believe that, why shouldn’t we act the part? At least then your accusations wouldn’t be false."

Briella took another step back. Then another. Her trembling legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the ground, scrambling backward in the dirt.

Alaric didn’t stop. His measured steps stalked her like a predator toying with its prey.

"Go home," he commanded, his voice smooth yet laced with danger. "And don’t come back."

Panic seized her. When she found an opening, she spun on her heels and ran, too terrified to look back.

The remaining women, who had only just managed to rise from their humiliating fall, watched in shock as their leader fled without so much as a glance in their direction.

The disguised Estalis commander, still clutching his aching wrist, looked on in confusion. What had just happened?

Then Alaric’s gaze landed on him.

The commander stiffened.

Even at a distance, he could feel the weight of Alaric’s scrutiny, as if the man could see straight through his disguise, peeling away every layer until there was none left to hide.

"I’ll repeat what I told that woman," Alaric said, his voice like steel. "But I will only say this once. Go back and tell whoever sent you to come at us like a real man. Hiding behind children, women, and the elderly—isn’t he a coward?"

The commander’s face drained of color.

How? How did this man speak to him with such certainty? Did he know who he was? Who was that man? Why was he exuding such commanding presence?

His pulse hammered in his ears. He didn’t want to stay and find out. What if they capture and torture him?

He shuddered.

Without another thought, he turned on his heel and fled, vanishing into the crowd.

Lara watched him go, then took a step forward. "Go home!" she called out, her voice carrying over the plains. "Your leaders have already abandoned you!"

Alaric crouched down, his fingers brushing against the ground where something gleamed in the dirt.

Kane’s knife.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. His thumb traced the base of the blade where a single letter was engraved.

L.

A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips.