Azalea_Belrose

Her childhood was forged in shadows, and she was sharpened into a weapon, trained to be a ghost, a killer, an instrument of vengeance. The target: a decorated general whose face haunted her every nightmare, the man who tore her world apart.

But just as the final strike neared… the world shattered.

She woke in a savage, ancient realm where kings ruled with iron fists and war devoured the innocent. Her body? That of a thirteen-year-old. Her fate? Sold to traffickers, bound for hell by a family member's design.

Big mistake.

They expected a victim. She gave them hell. Every brutal lesson, every violent instinct...she unleashed them all and carved her way to freedom.

In the depths of that strange, dangerous world, she met a reclusive martial arts master, one whose power defied reason, whose teachings broke her and rebuilt her again.

But nothing could prepare her for the revelation that came next:

The man she was born to kill... was here. In this world. And he was her father. By blood. By fate.

The General!

Then, deep in the wilds of Mount Ourea, she saved a dying soldier from the clutches of Hades. But he wasn’t just a soldier. He was a prince, the heir to a kingdom, but deprived of his birthright.  He was wounded on a secret mission to crush the rebels tearing his kingdom apart.

To the prince, she was:
A woman disguised as a man.
A healer who knew the way of the sword.
A mystery wrapped in secrets and shadows.
The most intriguing enigma of his life.

Will she be the weapon they made her—or the legend she was born to become?

Return of the General's Daughter

The next morning, the caravan resumed its journey, winding steadily along the narrow path that clung to the lower slopes of the Alta-Sierra mountain range. Far ahead, shrouded in pale mist, the jagged silhouette of Mount Hainai loomed on the horizon—now less than a day's ride away.

General Odin rode near the center of the procession, his gaze scanning the surrounding ridges and tree lines. Despite the sunlight breaking through the pines, a knot of unease tightened in his chest. This was prime ground for an ambush. Bandits often stalked caravans here—waiting for the protection to peel away before striking at the weaker wagons.

He grunted under his breath, adjusting his grip on the reins. What if they attack after we leave? The thought gnawed at him.

Cleansed From The Sin Of Sodom