Reborn as the General's Useless Daughter-Chapter 291: Trouble at Ironspire City (Part-9)

Zora raised a brow faintly. "Since you came for my life, at least let me know who wants me dead."

"We only kill," the man said coldly. "Nothing more."

The killing intent in his eyes flared. In the next instant, the two female assassins beside him rushed forward like shadows, attacking without hesitation.

Zora’s mind flashed.

A professional killer group.

So that was it. Someone had gone as far as hiring assassins. That fit Guinvere’s style perfectly.

A faint, dangerous smile curved Zora’s lips as she drew her sword. If they wanted her life, then tonight would see who truly walked away breathing.

Power surged from the two women like a sudden storm. Their auras expanded without restraint, and the pressure of third-stage Crimson Realm cultivation rolled outward, heavy enough to make the air itself feel thick and sticky.

Zora’s dark eyes narrowed slightly. She was only at the second stage of the Crimson Realm, yet she felt no fear.

Third-stage opponents were dangerous, yes, but not unreachable.

What truly troubled her was the man standing calmly behind them.

He had not moved at all, and that silence told her everything. He was stronger than the two women, and he was waiting because, in his eyes, she was not worth his hand yet.

Sure enough, his gaze slid over her with clear disdain.

According to the information they had received, Zora was a second-stage Crimson Realm Spirit Warrior. For such a target, sending all three of them was already excessive. The employer’s insistence that they come together only meant one thing. Whoever wanted her dead did not want to leave even the slightest chance of survival.

Rich payment and an overcautious client. For an assassin, that was a pleasant combination.

Zora’s mana surged in response, flowing through her meridians like a burning tide. Her focus locked onto the two women rushing toward her. They moved without hesitation, shadows tearing through the night as countless attacks aimed straight for her vital points. Every strike seemed like it meant to end her life.

Her expression remained cold and clear. Instead of retreating, Zora stepped forward, both palms gathering brilliant streams of mana, and met their assault head-on.

The two women’s eyes flickered with mockery. A weaker Spirit Warrior daring to collide with them directly was nothing but suicide in their eyes.

Then their fists met.

*Boom*

A violent shockwave exploded outward, scattering dust and rattling the windows of nearby buildings. The collision was so fierce that even the ground beneath their feet cracked faintly.

The two women stiffened, shock flashing through their eyes. By all logic, Zora should have been crushed in an instant, yet she stood firm, her arms steady, her breath unbroken.

"How can you be this strong?" one of them hissed, her voice tight with disbelief.

Zora’s lips curved into a faint, sharp smile. "You thought I was only this much?"

Before they could respond, she suddenly shifted her stance and surged forward, abandoning the defensive clash. Her body cut through the air like a blade, and she launched herself straight at one of the women, choosing to break their formation.

One by one. That was the only way.

A flurry of palm strikes and fists followed, each impact roaring with brutal force. The two women tried to coordinate, but Zora’s pressure was relentless, driving them back step by step.

As the exchange continued, a chill crept into the hearts of the assassins.

This was no second-stage Crimson Realm Spirit Warrior. The power and control she displayed belonged to someone far more dangerous than the information they had been given.

Zora was never an ordinary second-stage Crimson Realm Spirit Warrior.

In her previous life, she had climbed to heights others could barely imagine, and the countless battles she had survived were etched into her bones. That experience had not vanished with her rebirth. Even with her current cultivation, she could squeeze out strength far beyond what her realm suggested.

Her foundation was solid, frighteningly so. From the moment she began cultivating again, every step had been steady, every breakthrough perfectly tempered. Against opponents of the same level, she was almost always the one standing at the end.

Another violent collision rang through the street.

One of the female assassins staggered backward several steps, her face pale with shock. The force behind Zora’s strike had rattled her to the core.

"That’s impossible," the woman hissed. "You’re supposed to be only a second-stage Crimson Realm. How can your power be this strong?"

Zora’s red lips curved into a cool, elegant smile. "Why would I tell you?"

Her strength in this life did not come from cultivation alone.

Long ago, beneath the pounding waterfall, she had tempered her body with harsh methods and precious medicines, forging it far beyond what it appeared. On top of that, she practiced the secret body art of her past life, the Adamantine Body Tempering Art. It was something that turned flesh into something harder and purer than steel.

The Adamantine Body Tempering Art had three levels. She had only mastered the first, but even that was enough to make her body far stronger than that of ordinary Spirit Warriors. Strikes that should have broken bones barely left bruises on her.

The two female assassins exchanged a glance, their eyes burning with both anger and unease. Being suppressed by someone weaker in the realm was a humiliation they could not accept.

With a sharp cry, they launched themselves forward again, attacking in perfect coordination. They were determined to crush her arrogance with their own hands.

Not far away, Shihtzu remained crouched quietly, looking harmless and almost lazy, like nothing more than a cute beast. In truth, its round eyes never left the man standing behind the two women. Zora had already instructed it. The two women were hers. The man was its responsibility.

The moment he moved, Shihtzu would strike.

"Fire Fist!"

The two women roared in unison.

Flames flared around their fists as they attacked from left and right, sealing off all of Zora’s escape routes. Their punches tore through the air with searing heat, aimed straight at her chest and abdomen.

They were forcing her to take the blow head-on. In their minds, no second-stage Spirit Warrior of the Crimson realm could possibly survive such a combined strike.

Zora’s eyes flashed, cold and brilliant, as she prepared to meet them.

When the male assassin saw the two women unleash their Fire Fists together, a faint smile flickered in his eyes. In his mind, the outcome was already decided. Under that kind of pincer attack, a mere second-stage Crimson Realm Spirit Warrior should have had no way out.

But the next instant, that confidence shattered.

Zora’s dark eyes narrowed, her gaze sharp as a blade. In the split second before the flames closed in, her figure shifted, not retreating but slipping between the two attacks with uncanny precision. Her body moved like flowing light, threading through a gap that should not have existed.

The two female assassins realized what had happened only when it was too late. Their fists, meant for Zora, slammed straight into each other instead.

Boom!

The collision of two Fire Fists exploded with violent force. Both women were thrown backward, blood surging in their chests, their faces turning pale as they struggled to steady themselves.

Yet before one of them could even regain her footing, a shadow appeared behind her.

Zora was already there.

"Storm Break!"

Her fist shot forward, mana roaring like a sudden tempest. The strike landed squarely on the woman’s back, and the sound of shattering force echoed through the night.

Boom!

The assassin was hurled forward like a broken doll, crashing heavily onto the ground. Blood sprayed from her mouth as her aura collapsed in an instant. Life drained away before she could even scream.

Zora stood still, her posture calm, as if she had merely swatted away an insect. In a battle like this, hesitation meant death. Once she saw an opening, she seized it without mercy.

Moonlight spilled over her slender figure, painting her in cold silver. The faint smile at her lips made the scene even more chilling.

The remaining female assassin and the man both felt a jolt run through them. According to the information they had received, Zora was only a student, young and inexperienced. Yet the way she had just killed was clean, decisive, and utterly without hesitation.

It was almost as if she enjoyed it.

Even seasoned killers remembered the fear and trembling of their first blood. But this girl... There was only icy composure in her eyes.

The male assassin’s expression darkened. This was not some naive academy student. This was someone born to walk the edge between life and death.

Zora did not pause. The moment the first woman fell, she turned toward the second, her steps light but deadly. She had no intention of dragging this out.

Anyone who came to take her life had already forfeited their own.

The remaining woman’s face went white as she felt that cold, merciless gaze lock onto her. Alone now, she was completely outmatched.

"Why are you still standing there?" she shouted desperately at the man behind her. "If you don’t move now, we’re dead!"

The moment those words left her lips, the man finally stepped forward.

If he kept hiding behind others now, he would only be laughingstock material later. Losing one teammate was already humiliating enough. If he let another die at the hands of a mere academy student, his name would become a joke in every shadowed hall of the assassin world.

"This little farce ends here," he said coldly. "You can go die now."