Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 121: The Sacrificial Lambs

Chapter 121: The Sacrificial Lambs

The mothers, desperate and weary, hoisted their children onto their backs — the youngest barely nine — and stumbled toward the Sentro’s towering gates. Their trembling legs wobbled as the burden at their backs pressed down on them, while the other villagers watched helplessly.

Briella pursed her lips. She was done for. She did not understand how the situation became like that. It must be those two soldiers messing up with them. Should she escape? The mayor would not give her another chance.

She shouted to the women to come back. Her voice became hoarse, but the mothers continued to move toward the walled fortress.

Suddenly, a long, high-pitched blare pierced the air. The first trumpet sounded. It echoed from the North, cutting through the crowd’s murmurs. Then came the second, from the West, and a third from the East, each sound sharper than the last. The villagers froze.

It was a signal. Estalis soldiers had attacked.

The Northem soldiers’ camp sat nestled in the Gwamuros plains between the shadows of Mount Roca and Mount Marnubes. It was far enough from the base of the mountains to prevent an ambush but close enough for the echoes of the trumpets to bounce off the cliffs, making the signal feel like it came from all directions.

Over five thousand protesting villagers stood trembling before the Northem forces, their plan to push forward crumbling under the weight of fear.

Panic surged like a tide. The crowd surged toward the Sentro, their only hope for safety lying behind its mighty gates — but salvation did not await them there. Instead, the ground quaked beneath the thunderous beat of hooves. The Estalis cavalry burst forth from the gates in a storm of steel and fury.

Briella, who was standing in the middle of chaos, froze. Her breath hitched, eyes wide with disbelief. "No... they’re not supposed to attack from there." The plan had been clear — the Estalis and Zura forces were to flank from the sides and attack from the rear, leaving the front open as a distraction. But the mayor and the commanders had betrayed them.

"Go back! Go back!" she screamed, her voice raw with terror.

Those soldiers looked determined to trample on them if they did not move out of their way.

But there was nowhere to go. The villagers reeled in confusion, their momentum shifting directionless. Some stumbled toward the Northem camp in desperation, while others stood paralyzed, waiting to be trampled by the horde and the advancing cavalry.

Lara and the other soldiers were prepared to control the villagers as they had planned the night before. They had not anticipated that Estalis soldiers would ride out from Sentro gates and straight to the villagers who were blocking the way to the Northem soldiers.

Lara, still astride her horse, barked orders to the ten soldiers who were already on their horses. "Guide the people to the Southeast! That path is clear!" The soldiers rushed into the fray, but the villagers moved too slowly — the elderly, the children, the mothers burdened with their young.

The Estalis cavalry was closing in. Fast.

A woman stood immobile, her child clinging desperately to her neck. The child’s wails must have pulled the woman out of her stupor. She took a step but stumbled. As she pitched forward, a blur of movement swept past. Lara was there, snatching mother and child and hoisting them onto her saddle with a strength that defied reason. She galloped ahead, placing them safely out of harm’s way before racing back into the chaos.

The mother stood dumbfounded, watching Lara ride off. "A man that strong... no, that was no man. That was a force of nature."

Lara wheeled her horse around, and when the distance was right, she drew her bow with practiced precision. Arrows flew, swift and silent. One would think they were drawn randomly, but each one found its mark. Rider after rider toppled, their mounts screaming and bolting in panic.

A hundred Northem archers followed suit, and the sky darkened as they rained arrows on the incoming enemies.

But the Estalis fought back. Arrows hissed through the air, hammering against Northem soldiers who were ready with their shields.

Five soldiers from Zura who mixed with the Estalis army were filled with hatred. They released their arrows but their targets were the escaping villagers.

Painful cries of children filled the air. Lara’s head turned sharply and saw three arrows protruding from the children’s backs. Yet the mothers continued running.

Lara’s gaze turned dark and her aura shifted. Aramis, always beside her, felt a chill run down his spine. He shuddered when he realized that the ruthless "Kane" who killed the Zuran soldiers was back.

"Aramis, someone at 3:00 o’clock is targeting the villagers. I can’t find them. But we should be able to the next time they shoot."

Aramis was dumbfounded. Which direction was she talking about? Never mind, I will just watch her closely.

Lara’s eyes narrowed as she observed sharply. Then she saw them. Five soldiers hiding behind the others. They raised their arrows and aimed at the fleeing villagers, the mothers who were tired and the weak elderly who were trailing behind.

But before they could release their arrows, something hit them in the head, and they fell on their horses. They did not even have time to blink when their own horses trampled them, ending their lives in the most horrendous way.

Still, the enemy drew closer, and there were thousands and thousands of them.

From the corner of her eye, Lara spotted a lone figure break from the Northem ranks, sprinting toward a hidden mechanism buried beneath the dirt — the trap they had spent nights preparing.

Alaric.

Her heart lurched. No! He was too exposed.

The enemy spotted him too. Five archers trained their sights on him, bows drawn. Lara’s fingers flew to her quiver, but before she could release her arrow, a series of sharp twangs cut through the chaos. One by one, the enemy archers crumpled to the ground.

Lara turned, eyes darting through the haze of battle, and saw him — Angus, perched high on the ridge, his longbow still singing from the kill.

Alaric sprinted onward, the mechanism mere steps away. The trap was set. The tide was about to turn.

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