Reborn as the General's Useless Daughter-Chapter 122: The Beast Tide (Part-2)

She knew that Alaric Von Seraph and Raphael had already exhausted theirs. These last potions wouldn’t last long.

Silently, she passed them over one by one.

Her clear, waterlike eyes flickered with sadness she couldn’t hide.

Alaric Von Seraph and Raphael’s expressions were grim.

This mission should never have turned into this. Under normal circumstances, it was well within their expectations. They had never imagined encountering a beast tide, a calamity so far beyond prediction.

"Keep them," Alaric Von Seraph said, his voice as cold as ever, yet carrying unmistakable concern. "You’ll need them more."

In the darkness of the White Mountains, with the roar of countless beasts chasing them from behind, those simple words carried a weight heavier than any promise.

Their chances of survival were shrinking by the breath.

If the potions were divided evenly, no one would last long. But if they were concentrated on a single person, perhaps that one person could still escape.

Raphael refused the potion bottles as well. His thoughts were no different from Alaric Von Seraph’s.

"Senior, Raphael," Sylvandria said suddenly, her voice steady despite the tremor in her legs. "With my speed, surviving is already unlikely. You should keep them."

Her eyes were clear and resolute as she pushed all the remaining potions into their hands.

Among the four, she was the slowest.

If not for her, everyone else could have been faster.

She did not want to be the one dragging them all into death.

Just as the potions were being pushed back and forth, a calm, unhurried voice cut through the tension.

"I still have Recovery potions. You don’t need to worry."

Zora spoke evenly, her breathing steady despite the mad sprint.

She had never liked being unprepared. Even for a mission that was supposed to be low risk, she had stocked up for every possible accident.

She simply hadn’t expected those preparations to be used so soon.

At her words, Alaric Von Seraph’s gaze snapped toward her.

An Alchemist?

That was the first thought that crossed his mind.

The most terrifying thing about Zora was not just her combat strength, but the fact that she could create potions herself.

Mana recovery potions were not expensive in materials, nor difficult to refine, but demand was enormous. Any cultivator would hoard them if they could.

Zora reached into her storage pouch and, one after another, took out white porcelain bottles, handing them to the three of them.

Three bottles.

When Raphael opened his, he froze.

The liquid was dense and glistening in light, as if some magic spell had been cast on it.

With one look, he sensed that it was of high quality. And such quality can only be bought in an auction, not on the market.

The fact that Zora gave it away without any hesitation made it seem like either she is super wealthy or she made it herself. He inclined to the latter.

Raphael nearly stumbled mid-run, realizing the same.

Sylvandria’s gentle face filled with shock. Even as a first-ranked Alchemist herself, she had never managed to make such a high-quality potion.

Even Alaric Von Seraph’s eternally icy expression cracked for a brief moment. He looked at Zora deeply.

"Thank you."

In this life-and-death situation, these potions were not just medicine. They were hopeful.

Zora’s action might very well decide whether they live or die.

She smiled lightly, her expression relaxed and teasing, as if this were nothing more than a trivial matter.

"It’s fine," she said. "I still have more."

Raphael almost tripped again.

This woman... was trying to kill people with luxury.

Alaric Von Seraph fell silent.

Facing such an outrageously generous teammate, even he didn’t know what else to say.

Only Sylvandria’s gaze grew deeper and more complicated.

As a Alchemist, she knew the market all too well. High-quality recovery potions like this will be sold for tens of thousands of gold coins at a minimum.

A bold thought surfaced in her mind.

Could Zora herself be a second or maybe a third-ranked Alchemist?

Sylvandria didn’t dare confirm it.

But looking at that calm figure running ahead, high-quality potions in abundance, strength unfathomable, she felt certain of one thing.

Zora was far more than she appeared.

Meanwhile, they continued to sprint forward without a moment’s pause.

Behind them, the screams of cultivators rose and fell, torn apart by panic and despair.

Most of those people had not prepared enough potions. Their mana had already been drained dry during the escape.

At this point, slowing down even a fraction meant death.

Fear crawled into everyone’s chest like cold poison. Each scream behind them felt like a prelude, as if the next one would surely belong to them.

Yet no matter how desperately Zora and the others ran, the distance between them and the beast tide continued to shrink.

Rumble!

The earth shook violently. In the blink of an eye, the monster horde was less than fifty meters away, charging forward with terrifying momentum.

Finished.

That single thought surfaced in everyone’s mind.

Once a beast tide formed, there was nowhere to hide. Anything in its path would be crushed into dust.

Just then, two paths split before them.

"Left!"

Alaric Von Seraph made the decision instantly.

Between the two paths stood a towering mountain peak. Even the beast tide could not flatten it in one rush.

More importantly, there was a hidden cave along the left path. If they could reach it, they might survive.

Alaric Von Seraph tightened his grip on Sylvandria’s hand and veered sharply left.

Cultivators who had already lost their reason followed blindly, hearing his shout and rushing left as if clinging to their final straw.

But the beast tide behind them surged like bloodthirsty madness, its speed rising again.

The gap of dozens of meters vanished in an instant. Everyone could already feel the scorching breath of the monsters behind them.

Raphael stretched out his hand toward Zora, trying to pull her over.

The four had been running together, but dodging trees and thorns had scattered their positions. Now Zora seemed like she closer to the right path.

At this moment, changing direction meant slowing down.

And slowing down meant being trampled to death.

Zora reached back, fingers stretching toward Raphael. With his pull, she might still make it to the left—

But at that instant, other panicked cultivators surged past like a flood, violently crashing in the gap between those two.

Hands were torn apart.

"Zora!"

Raphael’s face went deathly pale.

This was their only chance.

And they had lost it.

Zora clenched her teeth hard enough to draw blood.

Damn these people!