Return of the General's Daughter Chapter 195

When Barett heard Lara’s comforting words, he looked down. This time, his vision didn’t blur with fear. The drop was still there—jagged cliffs framing the churning river below—but the terror no longer gripped him like a vice.

Then he realized he was no longer scared. His cousin’s strong arms around him were like a warm and safe haven that melted his fears away, like a lifeline—warm, protective, and reassuring. The storm within him began to settle, fear melting into something quieter and softer—trust.

His gaze followed the current to a bend where the water raged, like the tempest in August, the same one he watched swirling beneath him when the chieftain held him up upside down.

His heart did not race, and his breath was calm and steady.

At the same time, at the hanging bridge, Bener lay flat across the creaking planks, his body half-draped over the missing plank where Barett fell and where Lara dived after.

Lara’s rope was coiled a few times around his wrist, biting into his skin with each pull. His muscles screamed, and it felt like his right shoulder might tear clean from the socket.

Bener gritted his teeth and pulled with all he had, muscles quivering, his forehead dripping with sweat that fell on the rope now slick and slipping slightly through his grasp. He managed to haul it up—barely a few centimeters—but even that felt like a monumental win.

"Damn, they’re heavy," he cursed inwardly, his jaw clenched, sweat pouring down his face.

Then, Jethru arrived.

With surprising speed, the white-haired man dropped to both knees beside Bener.

"You did a good job catching that rope, young man." He whispered, and then he leaned forward and grabbed the rope. He held it with both hands and began to pull with calm, practiced strength. His movements were steady and sure, with no sign of the heavy load he was hauling.

Bener could only look at the old man and marvel at his strength. ’Am I notyounger by more than two decades? How could Jethru be so strong?’

But he did feel better when Jethru complimented him for his agility.

The minutes ticked by like hours.

The bridge groaned under the weight of tension and people alike. But finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lara and Barett emerged from the gap between the planks, pale and breathless, but safe.

Lara felt that her arms were numb. She massaged it, letting the blood flow. Then her gaze landed on the Bener’s wrist. It was bleeding. The rope cut into his flesh when he was pulling the two of them.

Bener was still lying prone on the planks. His body was so weak that he could not stand. It was only now that he realised the gravity of the situation. What if he missed the rope, or what if it slipped? He shivered.

"That was very bold of you, Sister. I know that saving life is important, but next time, you have to make sure that your life will not be endangered." Bener said breathlessly.

"I have full trust in you, Brother. Surely you have encountered a similar situation in the past?"

A foolish smile appeared on Bener’s face. One good outcome of the accident was that his sister had called him ’Brother.’

Lara secured the gap where the plank disappeared. The knot somehow loosened, and Barett placed all his weight on the side of the plank, causing it to be displaced, leading to his unfortunate fall.

Lara used a section of her rope to weave a protective barrier on the gap so a misstep would not result in a fatal fall.

Jethru, on the other hand, guided the still-shaken boy. They crossed the rest of the bridge slowly. Each step they made was deliberate, each plank creaking beneath their weight, but no further mishap occurred.

The bridge swayed gently behind him, the wind rustling the ropes like the breath of a living thing.

For the second time, Barett’s gaze focused on the river far below. There was not a hint of dizziness. The water no longer looked like a threat, and there was no vision of a thousand arms beckoning him to jump. It looked like what it always had been—just water. Wild, yes. Dangerous, yes. But no longer a monster lurking beneath his memories.

Barett reached the end. His foot hovered over the final plank.

He exhaled deeply, the breath long and steady, as if he were letting go of something heavy he’d carried for too long.

He was sure that moving forward, there would be no more nightmares of a water giant chasing after him. When it caught up, it would swallow him whole, and then he would wake up, drenched in sweat.

Barett stepped off the bridge.

And with that final step, he knew: he had conquered his fear.

"Brother, are you alright?" Abel, who was no longer restrained, ran to Barett and hugged him tightly. His eyes were red; it was obvious that he had cried.

Abel was the strongest among the Lenard siblings. Barett had seldom seen him cry. Even when they were attacked by bandits a few months ago, and forced to surrender their food supply and livestock, Abel remained a picture of calmness and strength.

He only cried when Darius was attacked, and now when he almost fell to his death.

"I am fine now, Brother." Barett said gently. The way he said ’brother’ was gentle and full of respect. Abel was happy.

"That’s good. I almost had a heart attack from tension as we watched them pull you and Lara up."

"Yeah." Percival interjected. "And he almost jumped and followed you if we had not restrained him."

Barett felt a comforting warmth envelop him. In that moment, he recognized the deep bond of affection his eldest brother held for each of them, a protective love that wrapped around them like a soft blanket on a chilly evening.

He was really lucky. To have a family like that and to have the Norse siblings as his cousins. He could not ask for more.

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