Reborn as the General's Useless Daughter-Chapter 121: The Beast Tide (Part-1)

She paused, genuinely puzzled. "I don’t remember forming a contract with you."

"Master," Black explained patiently, "when you became the master of the Ring of Chaos, the contract was already established."

Zora was startled. Her doubt deepened. Everyone knew that a cultivator could normally only contract a single beast.

"I... contracted three beasts?"

Black’s eyes curved into happy crescents. "Master, you are the owner of the Ring of Chaos. You’re not like ordinary cultivators. There’s no limit to the number of beasts you can contract. The stronger you become, the more you can have."

A sharp light flashed through Zora’s eyes, hearing those words.

She had only learned this today, but the implications were enormous. No limit on contract beasts?

That was far too convenient.

A faint smile bloomed on her lips like a clear lotus. When she first contracted with Shihtzu, her only regret had been his apparent lack of combat ability.

Once a cultivator reached a certain level, a powerful combat beast could be an immense advantage. Lacking one would inevitably be a disadvantage.

But now?

That regret vanished completely.

"Master," Black asked bitterly, his voice pitiful, "when can we go out and be seen too?"

They were clearly the first to contract with her, yet somehow ended up overshadowed by Shihtzu.

Zora felt a flicker of embarrassment.

It wasn’t that she was unwilling to let Black and White appear. The real problem was... all three of her contract beasts were far too unusual.

A Shihtzu that looked like a puppy, plus two mysterious furballs whose species she still couldn’t identify.

It was troublesome.

"Wait until I’m stronger," she said firmly.

Her eyes were serious and resolute.

Shihtzu appeared harmless, without obvious attack power. No one would envy or covet him.

But Black and White were different. They were too special. Revealing them now would only invite danger.

Understanding her intent, Black and White stopped complaining. They both knew she was thinking of their safety.

By then, Alaric Von Seraph and Raphael had finished stripping the armored rhinoceros’ hide. The leather was valuable, but the rest of the beast had little use. The meat was tough and unpalatable, so they discarded it without hesitation.

The forest fell quiet once more, the tension of battle finally dissipating.

"The armored rhinoceros is dealt with. Let’s head back," Raphael said softly. "We could’ve stayed in the White Mountains a bit longer, but since this is a competition, there’s no reason to delay."

Zora nodded lightly. "Let’s return first."

The four of them made to leave, turning their steps away from the depths of the mountains.

But at that very moment, a thunderous chorus of roars exploded through the White Mountains.

"ROAR—!"

The sounds overlapped and surged like crashing waves. Countless beasts roared in unison, their voices wild and frenzied, as though something had ignited madness deep within them. The ground began to tremble, leaves shook violently from the trees, and an ominous pressure spread through the air like a suffocating fog.

The expressions of all four instantly turned grave.

Something was terribly wrong.

"What’s happening?" Sylvandria’s brows knit together, fear and confusion flickering across her delicate face. She had entered the White Mountains many times before, yet this was the first time she had encountered such a phenomenon.

Alaric Von Seraph’s face darkened. "You stay here. I’ll go take a look."

"Senior, be careful," Sylvandria said softly, worry evident in her voice.

Alaric Von Seraph nodded once. "I’ll be back soon. Raphael, watch over them."

"Leave it to me," Raphael replied without hesitation.

At this moment, his usual easygoing smile was gone. His expression was sharp and vigilant, radiating the calm authority of someone accustomed to danger.

The roars grew louder, closer, shaking the very air. Countless beast cries intertwined, forming a deafening, chaotic wall of sound that assaulted the senses. It was no longer just noise. It carried power, enough to unsettle the mind and disturb one’s inner energy.

Zora’s exquisite face grew solemn. Her heart sank.

She had encountered this before.

This was no ordinary disturbance.

"Master," White said gravely, his voice echoing in her mind. "It looks like a beast tide. This is extremely dangerous. You must leave the White Mountains immediately. If you’re caught in it, survival will be nearly impossible!"

Zora’s eyes darkened in realization.

A beast tide.

Among places dense with monsters, this was one of the rarest and most terrifying disasters. When it occurred, all beasts lost their rationality, charging in a single direction like a raging flood. Everything in their path would be crushed underfoot, reduced to dust.

And the White Mountains... how many monsters did they contain?

The answer itself was enough to make one’s scalp go numb.

Once overtaken by a beast tide, there was no escape. Only death.

She had survived such calamities in her previous life, when her strength stood at its peak. But now...

Now, she was only at the beginning of her cultivation path.

Moments later, Alaric Von Seraph rushed back. His usually cold and composed face was uncharacteristically pale.

"Leave immediately!" he said sharply. "It’s a beast tide!"

Those three words hit like a hammer.

Raphael and Sylvandria both went pale.

With their current cultivation, encountering a beast tide was no different from courting death.

"A... beast tide?" Sylvandria whispered, her voice trembling, disbelief written all over her face. "That kind of disaster only happens once in a century... How could we run into it?"

"Let’s run."

As Zora spoke aloud, the four of them bolted toward the exit without exchanging another single unnecessary word. At this moment, every extra breath, every fraction of distance gained, meant one more chance to live.

Rumble!

The earth roared beneath their feet. Violent tremors surged from behind, growing stronger with every heartbeat. The ground shook so fiercely it felt as though the mountains themselves were collapsing.

This was no ordinary disturbance.

It was like a devastating earthquake.

One misstep and they could be thrown to the ground, trampled into nothingness.

All four pushed their speed to the absolute limit. Zora’s figure blurred as she executed her movement technique, her steps light and swift, ghostlike as she weaved through the forest.

Alaric Von Seraph, Raphael, and Sylvandria were no slower. As special enrollment students, each of them had their own trump cards, methods honed for survival.

But they were deep in the White Mountains.

They had spent days reaching this place. Escaping now was far from easy.

"Run! It’s a beast tide!"

"Ah—!"

Panicked screams echoed from all directions. Along the way, they encountered other practitioners fleeing in blind terror.

The moment the beast tide erupted, no one cared about missions or gains anymore. Weapons were abandoned, spoils discarded. Survival was the only thought left in their minds.

Monsters were born with terrifying strength and endurance. Once they entered a frenzy, their speed became nightmarish.

Where the tide passed, trees snapped like twigs, and the earth churned and shattered. It was a moving catastrophe.

Alaric Von Seraph continuously poured mana into his legs, forcing his speed higher and higher. Yet even so, he discovered that Zora was still ahead of him.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Raphael noticed it too. When Zora fought the armored rhinoceros, he had already sensed that her movement technique was exceptional.

Now, it was undeniable.

Her body arts were far from ordinary.

Zora led at the front. Sylvandria lagged at the rear, her delicate face drained of all color.

Without hesitation, Alaric Von Seraph reached back and grabbed Sylvandria’s hand, dragging her forward and forcibly increasing her speed.

The warmth of his grip sent a brief spark of joy through Sylvandria’s heart.

Senior... is holding my hand.

But the joy vanished almost instantly.

In the face of death, such thoughts were meaningless. Only by surviving could anything else matter.

At this relentless pace, their mana drained frighteningly fast. Before long, all of them began swallowing Recovery potions one after another.

As night gradually fell, they were still running.

The beast tide behind them showed no sign of slowing. If anything, it grew closer, the earth-shaking roars pounding into their ears like death drums.

Pain spread through their bodies. Thorns tore at their clothes and skin as they ran, leaving fresh cuts across arms and faces.

After a full day of nonstop flight, their bodies were nearing their limits. The Mana Recovery potions were being consumed at an alarming rate.

Sylvandria slowed for half a breath, her fingers tightening around the remaining potions in her hand.

She had only four left.