Lara’s expression shifted through a spectrum of emotions—shock, disbelief, hesitation.
Was General Odin challenging her?
The idea sent a wave of unease through her. How was she supposed to fight her own father? And worse—what if she won? Wouldn’t that tarnish his reputation? Would the soldiers whisper that their revered general had been bested by someone half his size?
Her heart pounded as she turned to Jethru, her eyes silently pleading.
Master, say something. I don’t want to fight him.
But before Jethru could respond, another voice cut through the tension.
Alaric cleared his throat, his tone carrying an unmistakable hint of amusement.
"General, are you sure you want to fight with him?" he asked, his gaze flicking between Odin and Kane. Kane is still very young. You, on the other hand, have been hardened by countless battles."
Then, his sharp eyes landed on Kane, and the corners of his lips curled into a smirk—mischievous, teasing.
"Just look at him. He’s gone pale. I bet he’s terrified of you."
Lara glared at Alaric. She thought he was helping her. Who would have thought that he was putting her down?
"Uncle, please spare him. He looked so delicate, his bones might break when hit by the back of your sword."
A young man—only slightly older than Asael—stepped forward, positioning himself beside his father and uncle. His presence only added to the growing anticipation in the air.
Lara scoffed, folding her arms. What exactly was the man getting at?
Jethru, meanwhile, studied General Odin with narrowed eyes, lost in thought. The last time he had truly looked at this man, Odin had been a reckless teenager—brash, eager, and always getting into trouble.
Back then, Jethru had been a free man, and Odin... Odin had been nothing more than a stubborn boy.
Yes, there was no doubt about it. Odin was his first disciple. The memory stirred like dust in an old, forgotten chamber of his mind.
Jethru had not planned to take a disciple at that time, but Odin had been relentless. And once the boy became his disciple, others had followed in droves, all desperate to learn from him. He had accepted too many at once, his attention spread thin, his teachings divided among eager hands that he had not paid attention to Odin.
Odin had been diligent, though—more than any of the others. The boy would wake before sunrise, just to observe his master in meditation and practice. His hunger to learn had been insatiable.
And then... Jethru was framed and sentenced to death.
His so-called disciples had scattered like frightened rats. Some had sneered. Some had jeered. But Odin—what had happened to Odin? Jethru tried to recall. He couldn’t remember seeing him among those who had mocked him, nor had he heard Odin’s voice joining the chorus of betrayal.
Was he the one who accompanied Samuel when looking for evidence to clear his name? His master did mention that one of his disciples was looking for evidence alongside him.
A rare thing, loyalty.
Jethru exhaled, pushing the memories aside.
His gaze flicked between Odin and Lara.
His first disciple... and his last.
Alpha and Omega. The first and the last letters of the Greek alphabet.
The thought sent an odd thrill through him.
Lara had lived with her master long enough to understand her master’s every expression. She knew Jethru was plotting against her with his smirks. Did he want Lara to accept Odin’s challenge?
No, she could not. If she did, then she would fight without regard to seniority or her being the daughter. She was a principled fighter. She would not lose a fight to give face to her opponent.
"General, I apologize, but I cannot accept your challenge," Lara said in a voice she thought most convincing.
"I looked up at you like a father, and of course I cannot offend my father figure." Lara continued to explain.
"Then, all the more that we should spar. I spar with all my sons whenever I have time." General Odin’s deep voice caused Lara to freeze.
’What the heck? Why is he so persistent?"
Lara helplessly glanced at Alaric, hoping that he would intervene.
Alaric was mesmerized by those beautiful pleading eyes and his gaze softened.
"Doctor... Doctor Mendel!" A medic assigned to guard the infirmary came panting.
Lara heaved a sigh of relief which General Odin caught.
Why was he reluctant to spar with me? It is just a spar. Is it because he considers me too old to be his opponent?
"Speak!’ Lara spoke impatiently.
"Lieutenant Norse has awakened and is urgently requesting your presence, Doctor Mendel," the soldier exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement and concern, as he stood a few steps from the generals and the soldier-doctor.
"I’ll accompany you, Kane," Alaric declared, his voice cutting through the air like a sword. Turning to face General Odin, his tone sharpened further, "General, I expect you to ensure that the soldiers are rigorously trained. Implement a simulation of an assault on Carles, even with civilians present."
General Odin’s heart sank as a wave of indignation washed over him. After all, Asael was his son, and the thought of seeing him filled him with a longing that fiercely battled his duty. Yet, could he defy a direct command issued by the prince? The weight of that dilemma pressed heavily on his shoulders, leaving him torn between loyalty and paternal instinct.
"General Alaric," Kane’s voice softened. "Maybe the general would want to see his son?"
Alaric just hummed reluctantly.
Odin glanced gratefully at Lara. "Thank you, Doctor Mendel." Odin noticed how the medic called her so he also addressed her as Doctor.
"General Marlon and Amnon can start the simulation. I will be back immediately," the general had given out his instructions, and before Lara could even make a step, he walked briskly to the infirmary.
She was the one that Asael asked for. Without further delay, she followed the general
Inside the infirmary, Asael’s gaze was glued to the entrance of the tent. Then a shadow fell on the ground and when he looked up, he locked gaze into eyes that were like his own.
General Odin frowned. Why did his son sound disappointed?