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

After ten long days winding through forests, plains, and rough and dusty roads, the caravan finally rolled into Calma beneath the golden wash of early afternoon sunlight.

It was March, and there was no trace of chill that lingered in the breeze. The quiet town stirred with signs of summer—lush leaves and branches, merchants hawking wares, and the scent of warmed earth.

The caravan, a patchwork of merchant wagons, armored escorts, and a single lacquered carriage bearing the Norse mother and daughter, clattered toward Narra Alley—a quieter street tucked behind the bustling market district. One by one, ten carriages pulled to a stop before an ornate wrought-iron gate. A sign made from hard wood arched above it, carved with the familiar words:

The Reunion