Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 353: The Unseen Hand

The truth? The guards never stood a chance.

The servant had slipped after them like a shadow, every footfall silent, and her presence unnoticeable. Beneath the guise of Atalia’s humble servant, she had studied their faces and their movements. She memorized weaknesses and patterns.

She waited until they stepped far enough into the bush, away from the glow of the fire, where darkness turned thick and soundless.

That was where she struck. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

With the precision of a trained assassin, she jabbed a tiny, needle-thin weapon into the base of each man’s neck. The venom worked fast—paralysis, confusion, nausea—mimicking the symptoms of a snakebite.

Only one real snake had been deployed, coiled carefully beneath a pile of leaves. It was placed there by the man in black with ghost-white hair, hidden beneath a turban — Jethru.

And yes, the servant who bowed and smiled, who passed out sweets with meek eyes—was no ordinary maid. She was Atalia’s sworn protector and a covert agent of General Odin. She was Lara.

She had learned much. Half the prisoners had been framed. Others had broken the law to shield family or defy corrupt nobles. They were the brave men cast aside by a rotten system.

Now, she would give them a chance to fight back.

Back at the camp, Luki’s coal-dark eyes reflected the firelight, but beneath the glow flickered something rarely seen in him—fear.

Seven men were incapacitated. Three horses gone. And it was only the first night of the transfer. He must be cursed to suffer such disgraceful setbacks.

He tried to keep calm, pacing circles around the campfire, muttering under his breath like a man trying to hold his sanity by the threads of logic.

"What’s their condition? Are they going to make it?" he snapped at the medic kneeling beside the unconscious guards.

The medic wiped sweat from his brow, voice tense. "I don’t know, Captain. They need immediate care. This is beyond my knowledge."

Luki ground his teeth. "Fine. Send them to Lamayan at first light. Until then, it’s up to luck."

But in truth, it wasn’t concern for their lives that weighed on him—it was the consequences. Men dying under his watch meant reduced bonuses, punishment, and shame. He couldn’t afford that.

His thoughts spiraled. This wasn’t normal. Something was working against them—an unseen hand.

He leaned toward his deputy and whispered a command. A moment later, the deputy marched over to Odin, eyes burning with suspicion and resentment.

But General Odin was not intimated. He looked at the deputy commander without flinching.

"You," he barked. "What do you know about this?"

Odin looked up slowly, the fire casting long shadows across his face. He blinked once, unbothered. "About what? The guards being bitten by snakes?"

He continued to stare, unblinking. "What else is there to know? Isn’t that the narrative?"

"You think this is funny?" the deputy spat.

Odin tilted his head, calm as still water. "Nature can be cruel. Probably, they disturbed a snake’s nest, so it bit them back. Even the most harmless creature, when cornered, will fight back; how much more is a snake?"

The deputy’s face twisted in fury because of the way Odin replied. He raised his foot to strike the chained general, but Odin didn’t flinch.

He simply stared back, a quiet defiance burning in his eyes. Then he lifted his chained hands and blocked the kick.

Crack!

"Arghh!" the deputy howled, stumbling back, cradling his foot. He fell to the ground, eyes wide in disbelief.

Luki strode over, face like a thundercloud. "What did you do to him?"

Odin raised his hands, the shackles gleaming. "What can I do when I am chained? I merely blocked the kick." Odin’s tone was indifferent.

Luki exhaled hard through his nose. He didn’t retaliate. Not yet. He couldn’t risk provoking something deeper. He didn’t know what forces Odin still had lurking beyond the shadows.

So he let it go, for now.

...

As night deepened, the fire crackled low, the camp wrapped in stillness. The children slept soundly, lulled by the faint, sweet scent still wafting from the burnt sachet near the fire—citronella laced with just a trace of sleeping root.

Lara checked the guards, who seemed to be deeply asleep. All around, they snored in uneven rhythms—some grinding their teeth, others sprawled on the ground in awkward angles.

Lara learned that handcuffs were called shacklebolts in that era. Because the monarchy did not want to make it too complicated, only one key could be used to unlock the shacklebolt that bound the prisoners.

Lara went through the darkness like a whisper. She moved stealthily toward where the deputy commander was sprawled on the ground.

She crouched beside the deputy commander and slipped her fingers into his tunic with practiced ease. Her touch found cold iron—the key.

The shacklebolt key.

Lara freed General Odin first, and she worked with unmistakable speed. One by one, she freed Odin’s sons, the commanders, and half of the prisoners—those she knew had been unjustly chained. Her hands moved like lightning. Every second counted.

Odin and his sons wasted no time. As soon as they were free, they turned the tables.

The shackles were placed around the wrists of their sleeping captors. Some were shackled to the same handcuffs, and some were bound with ropes.

"Brother," Bener, one of Odin’s sons, whispered to Galahad, tightening the knots on a guard’s wrists. "Why aren’t they waking? They’re like stones."

"It’s because Lara fed them sleeping pills. I could guess that the candy she gave out was the culprit or that nice-smelling pouch over there." He replied as the lock of the shacklebolt clicked in place.

Another click. Another prisoner was freed, and another captor bound.

Within minutes, the camp had been reversed. The guards were bound. The prisoners, freed. The power had shifted, silent and swift.

Lara moved to the women, gently shaking them awake. Mothers clutched their children. Men blinked into the darkness, stunned.

"We leave now," Odin whispered. "Quietly. No mistakes."

They melted into the woods, vanishing like mist.

But fate had other plans.

A soft whimper broke the silence.

Then a shrill cry.

One of the children had woken up confused and disoriented. He began to cry. Her mother hushed him urgently, but it was too late.

Luki stirred.

It was too quiet.

He forced his eyes open. Around him, nothing moved. No patrols. No chatter. Just sleeping forms and an eerie stillness.

"I must be dreaming..." he mumbled, rubbing his face.

He blinked again.

Still, there was nothing in places where the women and children lay.

His body was heavy, his limbs sluggish, as though soaked in syrup. His eyelids fought to close again. But something was wrong.

He sat up. His heart dropped.

Then he saw some of his guards were shackled alongside the few remaining prisoners. He looked down at his own right wrist, which was encircled by a handcuff. Realization struck like lightning.

He trembled before a desperate cry pierced the stillness of the night.

"THE PRISONERS HAVE ESCAPED!"

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