Reborn as the General's Useless Daughter-Chapter 118: Mercenary Mission (Part-6)

"Alaric Von Seraph, spare me your righteous posturing," Julian sneered. "In front of everyone, what right do you have to act superior to me?"

The arrogance and disdain in his voice were unmistakable. What Julian hated most was precisely Alaric Von Seraph’s cold, detached manner.

He never understood how someone with such an aloof, unapproachable face could command so much respect.

"Julian, don’t push this too far!" Sylvandria’s body trembled as she spoke, a hint of firmness finally breaking through her gentle demeanor.

"Syl," Julian spat, eyes blazing with venom, "I once worshipped you like a goddess. Now? You’re worthless to me."

His lips twisted cruelly. "You’d better pray you never fall into my hands. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you suffer so badly that even death won’t be an escape."

Every word seemed dragged out from the depths of his hatred.

Once, he had stood at the peak of the special enrollment, a rising star who could rival even Alaric Von Seraph.

But because of this woman, Sylvandria, his future had been destroyed, his name stained beyond repair.

How could he not hate her?

"Since you refuse to cooperate," Julian said, lifting his chin, arrogance giving way to killing intent, "then we’ll settle this the hard way."

The playful malice vanished from his eyes, replaced by cold seriousness as the ferocity buried deep within him finally erupted.

In an instant, the suffocating tension snapped.

The forest breeze stilled, the scent of grass fading, as if the White Mountains themselves were holding their breath.

Heaven Realm’s energy burst forth from Julian’s body.

A sharp blade appeared in his hand, its edge gleaming with icy light, radiating chilling, lethal intent.

Alaric Von Seraph’s expression remained unchanged. The long sword rested in his hand, its edge broken and weathered, yet brimming with lethal intent.

In that instant, he seemed to merge with the blade itself. Cold, sharp, and unstoppable.

Clang!

Neither man hesitated. The moment their weapons were drawn, they struck.

Sword light and blade shadows collided in midair. Sparks burst, metal screamed, and killing intent overflowed. Their figures blurred like two raging whirlwinds, exchanging blows at terrifying speed, every strike fierce and merciless.

At the same time, Julian’s three companions moved, charging straight toward Zora’s group.

Since blood had already been spilled, this was no longer a duel.

It was a full-scale melee.

Raphael’s eyes narrowed as a dangerous gleam surfaced.

"Zora, Syl," he said swiftly, voice sharp and decisive. "Among the three in front of us, one is in the early Heaven Realm. Leave him to me."

"Another two are late-stage Sky Realm. Delay them for a bit. I’ll finish quickly and come back."

Sylvandria was also at the late stage of Sky Realm and could barely match one opponent. But Zora was weaker in cultivation, and the danger to her was obvious. Atleast in her view.

"I understand!" Sylvandria replied without hesitation, drawing her weapon, resolve flashing across her gentle features.

Raphael turned his gaze to Zora, concern unmistakable in his eyes.

"Zora, be careful. If you can’t handle it, focus on delaying. Just buy time."

The grudges between them and Julian had existed for years. This was no ordinary skirmish.

This was a fight to the death.

Zora’s red lips curved slightly. Her exquisite face showed not a trace of nervousness.

"Relax," she said calmly. "I can handle it."

She had once ruled a clan. What danger had she not faced?

A mere late-stage Sky realm cultivator was not enough to make her flinch.

Seeing the firmness and confidence in her clear, almond-shaped eyes, Raphael nodded. Only then did he turn and charge into battle.

Almost simultaneously, Sylvandria engaged one of the attackers.

Meanwhile, another man stepped toward Zora, his grin greasy and leering.

"Such a beauty," Nathaniel drawled, eyes roaming shamelessly over her. "I really can’t bring myself to hurt you."

He chuckled softly. "You’re only mid-stage of the Sky realm. You’re not my opponent."

"How about this?" he continued, voice dripping with malice. "Become my woman instead. I’ll make sure you’re treated well."

His gaze was filled with naked desire.

Sylvandria belonged to Julian. He had no illusions there.

But this woman—this one before him—was no less stunning.

Such a rare beauty... destroying her would be a pity.

Zora looked at him as though she were staring at filth. Disdain flickered through her dark eyes as her brows lifted slightly, her voice cool and detached.

"An ugly and weak trash like you?" she said lightly, lips curling into a mocking smile. "Why don’t you take a mirror and look at yourself first. Are you even worthy? You aren’t even worthy to polish my shoes..."

The contempt in her tone was unmistakable, her arrogance sharp and unhidden.

It was as though merely looking at him sullied her eyes.

That noble, aloof disdain struck Nathaniel like a slap.

The smile on his face stiffened, then shattered. His jaw twitched as rage surged in his eyes, dark and violent.

"Woman," he snarled, "you’re courting death!"

Faced with his fury, Zora remained utterly calm.

"So what?" she replied coolly.

One sentence.

Unyielding arrogance laid bare.

In her eyes, a cultivator of this level had no right to bark before her.

Nathaniel’s expression finally twisted with uncontrollable anger. His dignity had been trampled underfoot.

"Fine," he growled. "Then I’ll show you the difference in strength."

With that, murderous intent erupted from his body as he lunged forward, determined to crush the woman who dared look down on him.

Nathaniel stepped forward without warning.

Boom!

Dense mana exploded from his body as his fist tore through the air, roaring straight toward Zora’s face. The violent force sliced the wind apart, the pressure alone stinging like blades against the skin.

Yet her gaze remained steady.

Her feet shifted lightly, her figure blurring.

In the next instant, Nathaniel’s confident sneer froze.

The strike that should have landed met only empty air.

Before he could react—

"Storm Break!"

Zora’s voice rang out, cold and sharp.

Her figure flashed behind him like lightning, and her fist slammed mercilessly into his back.

Boom!

A dull explosion echoed as Nathaniel was sent flying forward, crashing to the ground in an undignified heap, face-first like a dog biting dirt.

Zora stood where she was, sleeves fluttering gently. Her cold, exquisite face held a calm confidence, a faint yet dazzling smile curving her lips.

Sunlight spilled across her figure, lending her an aloof, almost otherworldly grace, as though she might ride the wind and depart at any moment.

Nathaniel’s expression twisted violently.

He had been beaten.

By a woman weaker than him.

The humiliation burned hotter than the pain tearing through his internal organs.

Across the battlefield, Raphael and the others caught sight of the scene, their expressions shifting instantly.

Shock flashed across their faces.

They had expected Zora to delay Nathaniel at best. None of them imagined she would land the first blow—and such a crushing one at that.

Julian’s brows knitted together, his dark eyes turning icy.

"Useless."

The word fell like a blade.

Being beaten by someone of lower cultivation—if that wasn’t wasteful, what was?

Nathaniel’s face flushed red, fury and shame intertwining. That single strike had not been light. His organs throbbed painfully; he was already injured.

"You’re courting death!" he roared, nearly grinding his teeth to powder.

The trace of lust and indulgence he once held vanished completely, replaced by murderous hatred.

Zora gazed at him, her lips curved into a mocking smile. "You ran out of dialogues or something?"