Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 109: The Master and Disciple

Chapter 109: The Master and Disciple

Lara turned at the sound of Alaric’s voice, her brows furrowing slightly. Why was he calling her?

"Come here a moment." His tone was not a request—it was a command that expected immediate compliance.

Without hesitation, Lara passed the leaf bowl and spoon to Asael. "Eat slowly. Your stomach is still weak," she reminded him, her voice gentle but firm.

Then she rose and strode toward Alaric, her steps measured, eyes assessing him.

"Help me up."

She stared at him, momentarily speechless. This was the same man who had climbed the treacherous, hidden passage of Mount Roca with nothing but sheer determination. And now, he was suddenly helpless?

Doubt flickered in her mind, but she said nothing. Instead, she crouched beside him, slipping a steady hand behind his back while gripping his other hand. As she pulled him up, warmth radiated from his skin, and she caught the faint, uneven hitch in his breath. The closeness was unexpected—almost intimate.

Despite her slender frame, Lara possessed formidable strength. Lifting him was easy.

Asael’s expression darkened. His jaw tightened, and his fingers curled into the fabric of his blanket. That was his sister. It didn’t matter if Alaric was a prince—he would not allow him to take liberties.

He coughed sharply.

Then his body jerked at the pain in his abdomen. A sharp hiss escaped through gritted teeth. If his bandages weren’t secured tightly, his wound would have surely reopened. He cursed his own rashness.

Lara was at his side in an instant, concern flickering across her face. Asael smirked, but it quickly vanished as a cold shiver ran down his spine. His gaze, drawn by an unexplainable force, landed on the silent figure sitting in the far corner of the tent.

"Are you all right? I told you to eat slowly." Lara knelt beside him, her voice lowering into a reprimand. "Try not to cough. Your wounds are still healing. Finish this, and you can have another serving in the morning."

Asael grumbled but resumed eating, his movements slow and deliberate.

Lara’s gaze drifted to Agilus, who was quietly enjoying his meal in the corner. A thought struck her. "Agilus, is Angus still outside?"

"Yes."

Setting her bowl down, Lara walked to the entrance. The night air was cool, tinged with the scent of damp earth and burning wood. Angus stood guard, his posture rigid, face unreadable.

"Come inside," Lara said, her voice carrying an authority that mirrored Alaric’s.

Angus didn’t move.

"Aramis can take your place. I need to check your wound."

A flicker of hesitation crossed his face before he finally followed her in.

Inside, the dim glow of the lanterns cast long shadows against the tent walls. Three empty cots remained, one of which Lara had prepared earlier. She gestured toward it. "Lie down. Let me check your back."

Angus hesitated, stealing a glance at Alaric, whose expression remained unreadable.

"Don’t make me say it again," Lara said, a sharp edge to her voice.

With visible reluctance, Angus lay on the cot, face down.

After disinfecting her hands, Lara knelt beside him, pulling up his shirt. As she unwrapped the bandages, a curse slipped past her lips. Like Alaric’s, his wound had been crudely secured with layers of cloth. Worse, it hadn’t been cleaned in two days, causing the gauze-like fabric to stick to the scabbing wound.

When the wound was finally exposed, Lara was surprised at how well it had closed. The sutures had been removed with precision.

"Felix did a good job," she murmured.

After disinfecting the surrounding area and cleaning the wound with boiled water, she applied ointment using a cotton swab with a thin bamboo handle—a method she had devised herself.

The Eagle Team often helped her craft wooden arrows and thin bamboo sticks in their free time. Then she would wrap their tips in cotton. She sterilized them using the most conventional method available: dry heat.

She placed the swabs in a small clay pot, sealed it airtight, and set it inside a larger pot of boiling water. But she knew she needed something better—perhaps an iron or metal pot would make the process more efficient. She would have to ask her master to procure one for her.

Asael watched her intently, his expression troubled. His sister—a general’s daughter, well protected from birth—easily handled wounds, which unsettled him. When had she learned this? What had she endured in the past two years?

He nearly objected when she first touched the ointment, but seeing her use the cotton swab reassured him. This must be something she did often. Just who had his sister become?

Someone else’s gaze lingered on Lara, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed her technique. So, she had found a way to apply medicinal paste without skin contact. Great!

...

When the soldiers prepared to retire for the night, Lara left the tent. Both Alaric and Asael were sleeping soundly. Even Angus, who was standing guard outside, could not fight off sleep, so Aramis carried him to the cot. Lara had added valerian root to their broth to induce sleep, as their bodies needed it to heal properly.

Lara sought her master.

Master and disciple walked side by side around the training ground in the middle of the camp where a bonfire crackled in the cool night air.

"I also have things to say to you, girl. Did you know that members of the Eagle Team are pestering me to teach them the technique you used to defeat the Zuran soldiers? They said you are highly skilled and kill with ruthlessness, which surprised all of them. None expected an effeminate soldier to turn into an Asura on the battlefield."

He stopped walking, and with his back against the bonfire, firelight cast deep shadows across his face. His eyes narrowed. "When did you learn those skills?"

Lara’s heart skipped a bit. She could never tell him that she was a trained assassin in her previous life before she was mysteriously brought into this world.

"Of course, I learned them in the last two years at Mount Ourea. How could those people be more skilled than the tigers, snakes, boars and wolves of the mountain? I just treated them as I would any predator." Lara was nonchalant with her words as she animatedly used her hands to through punches and kicks in the air.

"Didn’t you teach me those crazy techniques yourself, Master?"

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