Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 88: Marching Into Battle

Chapter 88: Marching Into Battle

"Insolence!" General Norse’s voice thundered through the tent again, his composure snapping like a brittle thread. His face flushed with rage, eyes narrowing in disbelief. "How dare you, a mere soldier, speak to me like that?"

His repeated outbursts troubled Bener.

Lara met his fury with unwavering defiance. She didn’t know when exactly her disdain for the general had begun, but standing before him now, it burned brighter than ever.

"I am not a mere soldier, General Norse," she stated, her voice calm but firm. "I am a doctor."

The tension in the room coiled tighter.

"You!" General Norse’s voice surged with indignation, shattering the tense atmosphere like glass. His face already flushed, turned even redder from anger.

Berner, caught between them, felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. He wanted to intervene, to smooth over the hostility crackling between his uncle and Kane, but words failed him.

"Kane, you must apologize to Uncle," he said at last, though his voice wavered. "He is your elder and a general. That alone demands your respect."

He stole a glance at General Norse, his tone carrying the weight of reverence. Yet, Lara wasn’t convinced. She had always felt there was more to the general than what he allowed others to see.

She dipped her head slightly in what might have passed for respect—but her voice was cold, measured.

"I apologize for the outburst, General. But I am devastated by what happened to Asael." Her words were carefully chosen, but the frost in them was unmistakable. "He was one of our finest soldiers, a warrior of exceptional skill, yet he was cut down without a fight—because he chose to protect Captain Norse. How does a captain fall so easily within the supposed safety of your camp?"

Her question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.

At the entrance of the tent, Merlin Norse—who had just arrived—nearly stumbled. His escort shifted awkwardly, unsure whether to announce his presence or pretend he hadn’t heard.

General Norse exhaled sharply, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Those warriors were elite soldiers of Zura," he said, as though that alone explained everything. "Their skill and bravery are renowned. Who could have foreseen that such a small band would infiltrate our camp?"

Lara raised an eyebrow. She did not know if the general was serious with his words. Which general would think like that?

"And yet, those twelve ’elite soldiers’ were easily subdued by six men. Six, General. Berner, Berlin, and four others managed to take down twelve Zurans—until they used Captain Merlin Norse as a shield, and suddenly, they lost."

Merlin Norse, who was standing outside the tent, turned beet red. Damn that man. He is insulting me.

"Kane, enough!" Berner snapped, frustration lacing his tone. "We need to focus on the situation at hand."

Lara glared at him, biting back a retort. How could he not see that something was wrong?

The general’s voice shifted, softer now. "By the way, how is your brother? I heard he sustained two stab wounds." He intentionally shifted the conversation away from his son.

"Asael is still unconscious as of the moment." Bener lowered his head. He was trying to hide the storm of emotions brewing in his eyes.

A flicker of emotion crossed the general’s face. "I’m sorry."

Lara clamped her mouth to prevent her from uttering more derogatory words against Merlin Norse but continued to study the general.

Then, his gaze flicked toward the entrance before settling back on them. "We leave in an hour. We’ll meet your father southwest of Carles."

Berner’s stomach clenched. His brother needed rest. Moving him now would be dangerous. But staying wasn’t an option either.

"My brother..." he paused

"Don’t worry," a new voice cut in. "We’ll carry him on a stretcher." It must be a military doctor.

"Your brother will be alright, Bener. He has been a fighter since he was a small boy." General Marlon’s confidence did little to soothe Bener’s concerns. Moving Asael in this condition was a gamble—but he also knew the Zurans could attack at any moment. They had no choice.

...

Two hours later.

The Northem army—almost ten thousand strong—abandoned their encampment, marching toward Carles to rendezvous with General Odin’s forces.

But today, something was different.

The Eagle Team, usually leading at the vanguard, now trailed at the rear, moving carefully, deliberately. Asael’s condition dictated their pace, each step measured to ensure his fragile body remained stable.

Lara walked beside him, her presence a silent promise of protection. Sunlight bathed the rolling slopes of MarNubes, casting golden hues over the landscape. Wildflowers swayed in the breeze, their scent mingling with the crisp mountain air.

She held a massive banana leaf, its emerald surface glistening in the sunlight. The leaf’s broad, ribbed structure created a tranquil shade, sheltering Asael from the warm rays that filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the ground.

"You’ve missed a lot these past two years, Asael. The mountains have changed me. I learned from a master. I can now defend myself even better than the best of your Eagle Team." She whispered close to his ear.

"Do you remember Reya? She survived with me, and she continued to serve me. She nagged at me like a mother does and took care of me. She was just like a breath of fresh air."

Her voice was barely above a breath, meant only for him. Even Aramis, trailing behind her, couldn’t hear.

Every so often, she dipped a cotton ball into cool water, pressing it gently against Asael’s lips. His once-smiling mouth was cracked and dry, but she refused to let him suffer in silence. Each touch, each drop of moisture, was a quiet defiance against the angel of death hoovering over Asael.

The Eagle Team moved with an unusual heaviness; their spirits dimmed as they trudged along the rugged path. The usual camaraderie, the easy banter, was gone. A heavy silence had settled over them, thick with unspoken words. Even as they paused to rest, the weight of the day lingered.

Lara crouched beside her brother, her voice a soft murmur. "Brother, hold on. Once we reach Calma, you’ll have proper medicine and a place to rest."

A pause.

Then, a sharp intake of breath.

"What did you just call Asael?"

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