Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 25: A Helping Hand

Every time her master ventured out to purchase supplies, she would seize the opportunity to slip away and embark on her own adventures in the depths of Ourea’s jungle. On one of her explorations, she discovered a village nestled at the base of Ourea, just a few kilometers from the river.

She also learned about the sad flight of the citizens of Northem. The war has unexpectedly dragged on affecting the economy of the country, resulting to the common people getting hungry.

The bandits and rebels took advantage of the situation and raided some towns and villages along the borders where there were fewer security forces because most of the soldiers and guards were deployed to Hainai.

Lara moved briskly along the rugged trail, her boots crunching on the loose stones scattered across the western slopes of Mount Ourea. Ahead, she had spotted a hill slightly detached from the mountain’s main ridge, its slopes blanketed with clusters of yarrows swaying in the wind. Their abundance had caught her eye, and a plan formed in her mind: she could gather these medicinal herbs and send them to the soldiers of Northem. Yarrows were invaluable—able to stop bleeding and accelerate healing.

She was nearing the base of the slope, her gaze locked on the distant hill, when sharp, desperate cries for help echoed through the forest.

Her heart jolted.

Lara’s stride faltered, and then, with a frown, she spun around, retracing her steps. The cries grew louder as she reached a small clearing near a stream. The scene she stumbled upon made her breath catch:

A young boy, no older than eight, lay sprawled on the ground, his arms streaked with blood, wounded by what looked like the vicious bite of an animal.

A teenager, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, stood protectively in front of him, a large knife clutched tightly in one hand and a stick in the other. His stance was defensive, though his knees wobbled with fear. Two more boys flanked him, clutching makeshift weapons—mere sticks that seemed pitiful against the threat looming before them.

A tiger.

Its orange fur glistened in the dappled sunlight as it prowled forward, muscles rippling beneath its sleek coat. Its amber eyes were fixed on the teenager with the knife, its lips curled back in a guttural snarl.

Were these boys crazy? What were they doing in the jungle? Didn’t they know how dangerous the Ourea’s jungle was?

Before she could call out, the tiger roared—a thunderous sound that seemed to shake the trees. It crouched, muscles coiling, ready to spring.

Lara’s instincts took over. A flash of silver shot through the air, her knife—spinning end over end until it struck, embedding itself in the center of the tiger’s skull. The beast let out a high-pitched whimper, collapsing to the ground with a thud as its life ebbed away.

The forest fell silent, save for the shallow, panicked breathing of the boys.

Three pairs of wide, astonished eyes scanned the clearing, searching for the source of their salvation. But Lara’s clothes camouflaged and merged with the color of the forest, making her invisible to the trio, her lips twitching at what came next.

"Eldest Brother," one of the younger boys whispered, his voice trembling with awe, "do you think it was the fairy of Mount Ourea? Maybe she took pity on us and saved us."

Lara stifled a laugh. A fairy?

She stepped into the clearing, her presence startling the boys. Without wasting a moment, she crouched beside the injured child, assessing his wounds. Twin gashes ran the length of his arms—deep but not catastrophic. The tiger must have been startled by the other boys before it could sink its teeth deeper.

"You," she called to the eldest boy, her voice calm but commanding. "Come here and press on these wounds to stop the bleeding."

The young man did not hesitate, his hands trembling as he crouched beside her.

Lara swung her backpack off her shoulders and pulled out a strip of clean cloth and a small bamboo tube filled with a medicinal paste she had prepared from horsetail. With practiced ease, she scooped out a generous amount of the paste, spreading it over the wounds before securing the bandage tightly around the boy’s arms.

The injured child remained silent throughout, his pale face stoic despite the obvious pain. Lara couldn’t help but admire his bravery.

Once the boy was stabilized, she helped him to a tree, letting him lean against the trunk for support. Her stern gaze shifted to the teenager. He was tall, and his skin was tanned. It looked like he was often exposed to the sun.

"What are the four of you doing out here?" she lowered her tone as she demanded. "Don’t you know how dangerous Mount Ourea is?" freewebnσvel.cѳm

The teenager lowered his head in shame and guilt, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for saving us, Sir. We owe you our lives. But we had no choice..." his words trailed off. He regretted allowing his brothers to come with him. He should have come alone and just took Barett with him.

Lara’s sharp expression softened slightly. She hated herself why she couldn’t maintain a stern expression just like her father when he was displeased.

"What are your names?" she asked, folding her arms. "And where are you from?"

"My name is Abel," the teenager replied, still bowing his head. "These are my brothers. Barret is thirteen, Cyrus is eleven, and Darius..." He faltered, glancing at the youngest boy with guilt-ridden eyes. "Darius is ten."

Lara raised an eyebrow. Did their parents name them in alphabetical order? She suppressed a sigh, motioning for Abel to continue.

"We live in the village at the base of the mountain," Abel explained. "A week ago, bandits raided us. They took everything—our livestock, our food, even our money." His voice cracked, and his fists clenched. "Our mother and sisters are sick and starving at home."

Lara’s gaze swept over the four boys. Their hollow cheeks and sunken eyes told her all she needed to know. They were emaciated and desperate.

"So you came here to hunt and forage?"