Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 120: The Real Battle Begins 2

Chapter 120: The Real Battle Begins 2

"General Marlon Norse, these are the citizens of Northem we are talking about. As soldiers of the country, we could never harm the civilians," the prince said, each word sharp as steel.

Marlon paled, his mouth opening and closing before he finally bowed his head. "I apologize, Your Highness. I spoke out of turn."

Odin shot his cousin a withering look, silently chastising him for his recklessness and suggesting such a thing in the prince’s presence. Foolish!

The men fell quiet, the drumbeats and horn blasts filling the silence like a relentless tide.

Then, from the edge of the group, a voice broke the stillness.

"If the soldiers can’t touch them..." Lara began, her tone thoughtful. "Then let’s drive them away. We’ll beat them at their own game."

All heads turned toward her, curiosity flickering in their eyes.

Lara stood tall, a spark of mischief dancing across her face as an idea bloomed in her mind. Her gaze swept over the gathered soldiers until it landed on one who matched her build and height. She strode toward him, her steps light and confident.

"Could I borrow your armor?" Lara asked, flashing a dazzling smile that caught the young soldier off guard.

His face flushed crimson. Eyes wide, he fumbled with the straps, hastily shedding his armor and helmet as if entranced. How could there be a man with such a pretty face?

Just as Lara reached out to take them, a broad figure stepped between them, blocking her hand.

Her master, Jethru.

"Thank you for your generosity, young soldier," Jethru said smoothly, his tone polite but firm. "But Kane is His Highness’s attending physician. I’m sure the prince wouldn’t mind lending him something more fitting from the armory."

Then he cast Lara a disdainful look. How could she just casually ask for someone else’s clothes? Wasn’t she afraid the man’s body odor would stick to her? Even from afar, he could smell the foul odor emanating from the armour.

Lara blinked, confusion flickering across her face. Her master was up to something. She narrowed her eyes. "What are you thinking, Master?"

"I’m just looking out for you, stupid girl." He mouthed.

Jethru folded his arms. "By the way, Kane... what exactly do you need the armor for?" His brow arched suspiciously. "Don’t tell me you’re planning to attack those villagers?"

"Master, I am hurt. You of all people should know what kind of person I am." Lara said in an aggrieved tone.

"Then what?" Jethru realized he did not have an inkling of what Lara had in mind.

A slow grin spread across Lara’s lips. "I’m going to dance to their tune, Master."

Jethru blinked. "...What?"

Before he could press further, the sound of hooves on packed earth drew their attention. Angus approached, carrying a set of mail armor and a helmet in his arms. Beside him, Aramis led a magnificent steed. Its dark brown coat gleamed in the sunlight, smooth and rich like polished mahogany. The horse’s mane flowed in silky waves, and its intelligent eyes sparkled beneath the soft light, studying its new rider with quiet curiosity.

Lara’s eyes brightened. She clapped her hands together, a delighted giggle escaping her lips. The sound was light, playful — and entirely out of place coming from "Kane."

Silence.

Alaric pursed his lips. She was being careless again.

Jethru coughed awkwardly.

Lara froze. Right. I’m Kane, not Lara. She straightened, composing her features into a calmer expression. Suddenly, Kane was back.

She slipped into the armor. It was bulky and ill-fitting, the mail armor hanging loose around her frame. With a frustrated huff, she grabbed a length of rope and cinched it tightly around her waist, making the armor sit more securely. As for the helmet... the moment she placed it on her head, it nearly slipped over her eyes. She pulled it off with a grimace and settled for her signature black cap instead.

Without hesitation, she swung herself onto the horse’s back, the powerful animal shifting beneath her, adjusting to her weight. The crowd of soldiers murmured among themselves, watching her curiously.

"Hey!" Jethru’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. "What exactly are you planning? Don’t you dare harm those people!"

Lara turned in the saddle, meeting his gaze head-on. Her expression softened, her voice steady.

"Master," she smiled faintly. "I would never harm innocent people."

She was about to spur the horse when her gaze met Alaric’s. His eyes glinted, and the corners of his lips were curled. Then he raised his hand as if urging her to go.

What did he mean by that?

The wind stirred, carrying the sound of the drums. The horse pawed at the ground, eager to move. Lara tightened her grip on the reins, her eyes glimmering with purpose.

Whatever she was planning, the game had begun.

The villagers stopped what they were doing and suddenly the air was silent. Their gazes landed on a lone horseman a few meters away who was watching them, his posture erect. The sun’s rays fell on his visor, casting a shadow on his face, making it difficult for the villager to see that his gaze was actually calm and serene.

The children trembled. From their innocent mind, they saw him as a predator watching over their prey and would swoop on them and take them away.

The women were wary of her, scared that he would draw his sword or thrust his spear and slaughter them.

The older villagers were too far away to be bothered by him. After pausing for sixty heart beats, they blew their bugles and trumpets. Someone did a drum roll and the pans started clanging.

Lara’s horse was startled. It neighed and lifted its front hooves in the air.

The soldiers in the Northem camp held their breath. They thought that Kane would be thrown off the horse.

Jethru and Alaric both clenched their fists.

Aramis’ eyes glinted and a mischievous smile appeared on his lips before he disappeared from the crowd.

It took some time for Lara to calm down his horse. Aramis was already by his side when he did, leading his horse to move in synch with the chaotic sound.

The duo led their horses to prance, trot, and gallop. The horses’ movements were even more chaotic than the sound, leaving a cloud of dust for the villagers to eat.

The children stopped clanging. They cried as the dust stung their eyes, but when they did, the dust got into their mouths.

The women and the older people were coughing hard so they were forced to stop making noises.

When they stopped, the two horse riders stopped as well.

Once the dust settled, someone from the villagers blew the trumpet. It was the signal to start their ’ritual.’

Unfortunately, every time they make those sounds, the two horses perform and let them eat dust.

"Bo hu hu hu... I want to go home."

"Mother, I want to go home. Bo hu hu hu..."