Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 71: Meeting The General 2

Chapter 71: Meeting The General 2

Lara’s sharp gaze swept across the dimly lit war tent, noting the twelve men huddled around a long, makeshift table. Their weathered faces, the weight of command etched into their features, left no doubt—they were the generals of the Northern army. A crude diorama of the Alta-Sierra mountain range sat at the center of the table.

The heavy canvas walls of the tent blocked out the late afternoon sun, leaving only the entrance to spill a thin stream of light into the oppressive space. The air was thick with tension, the scent of sweat and the odor of people who hadn’t showered for days clinging to her nostrils.

Her gaze landed on a man with a commanding aura standing at the head of the table. His broad frame controlled the space without effort. He was studying the diorama with furrowed brows, the weight of unseen burdens pressing upon his shoulders.

She felt something tugged at her heart. Was it the familial bond of a daughter to a father?

She thought that she could not recognize him.

She thought that she would feel nothing.

But she was wrong.

While her body was his flesh and blood, her mind and soul were in no way related to him. ’So what is this tightness that I felt in my chest?’ Lara’s emotion was in turmoil as she asked silently.

Her gaze lingered on him. From her vantage point, his face was partially obscured by an unruly wisp. His unkempt hair, copper-brown like hers, cascaded down to his shoulders.

He was half a head taller than the tallest man in the room and must be in his early forties. His presence was towering like an immovable mountain. His broad shoulders and muscular build made him appear carved from stone, a warrior forged in the fires of battle. A short beard traced his jawline with deliberate precision, neither unruly nor refined, a perfect balance of control and recklessness.

As if sensing the weight of her stare, the man looked up—his piercing gaze locking onto hers before it turned into a look of confusion.

Lara’s breath caught.

The image of a man in the photograph, one she had fished from a lake on a bitterly cold night, burned in her mind. The resemblance was undeniable.

How could it be?

She stood frozen until a nudge on her shoulder jolted her back to reality.

"Ahem." She cleared her throat, steadying herself.

"I am looking for General Odin Norse to deliver a letter from General Alaric Kromwel." Her voice was strong and unwavering, its low pitch traveled across the room.

One of the generals scoffed. "Soldier, you stand before the leaders of Northem. Where is your respect? Remove your mask."

Lara hesitated for only a second before nodding. "I apologize, sirs."

In her excitement—or was it apprehension?—she had forgotten she was still wearing the mask.

The previous night, she had sacrificed her long hair, cutting the front into a fringe to shield part of her face.

With a steady hand, she pulled off the mask.

Gasps echoed through the tent. Then, silence.

The air thickened with unspoken words, the weight of their stares suffocating.

Then, a voice, deep and gruff, broke the spell.

"Odin, I thought you only had six sons. Don’t tell me this is your youngest, Peredur? Didn’t you say he was studying in the capital? Or... is this someone from outside your house?"

Lara’s gaze snapped toward the speaker. A burly man with an unruly mane of dark hair, his physique reminiscent of a boxer she once knew—Rocky, her ruthless boxing coach. His presence alone could crush lesser men.

Still caught in stunned silence, General Odin turned toward the young soldier before him. His sharp eyes roved over her features—features that bore an uncanny resemblance to his firstborn, Asael, yet with a softness, a gentleness that made the similarities all the more haunting.

His voice was smooth, deep, steady. "Whose son are you, young soldier?"

Lara’s expression didn’t waver. "I am from the House of Mendel, Sir."

Lies laced with truth. She could not tell him she was his. She would not. The time was not yet ripe.

Odin frowned, rifling through his memory, searching for familiarity in the name. Perhaps he was from his relatives. But the House of Mendel, he never heard of it.

"We are from Legares but later transferred to Calma." It was the truth. Her master had once resided in Legares before retreating into seclusion in Mount Ourea.

He studied her a moment longer before dismissing the thought. People bore resemblances all the time. There was no reason to suspect otherwise.

A different general interjected, his voice sharp. "Where is General Alaric and his troops?"

Lara straightened. "General Alaric was injured along with most other soldiers while pursuing the bandits to recover a letter. He wanted to deliver this letter himself but could not. He instructed that this letter must reach General Odin before the fifth day. He said that the Northem forces must not attack—it is a trap."

She reached into her jacket, retrieving a sealed envelope, but before she could take two steps forward, a sword shot out, its tip pressing against her chest.

Deputy General Balder’s cold stare bore into her. "Do you think we will believe you just because you claim this is from General Alaric? Who sent you? Are you a spy from Estalis? Or perhaps an agent of that coward Turik from Zura?"

The tension snapped like a whip.

In a blur, Aramis, whose weapons were confiscated by the soldiers guarding the tent, lunged, seizing a guard’s weapon and pressing its edge against Balder’s throat.

Swords unsheathed in an instant, the metallic ring filling the air.

Blades gleamed in the dim light, coming from all sides, and pointed at the two people standing before Balder.

"Aramis, lower your weapon. We are here to relay a message, not fight"

Lara’s voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the chaos.

A beat passed before Aramis obeyed, though his stance remained coiled, ready to strike. The soldiers surrounding them, however, did not lower their weapons.

"General Alaric understood your thoughts, Sir. He knew that you would have your suspicion."

Lara reached into her pocket again, pulling out a small, golden seal. The moment the emblem caught the light, the room shifted.

Balder snatched it, scrutinized it. He glared at Lara, and with a deep frown, he handed it to General Odin.

"This... this is .."