The General's Daughter: The Mission

It took them more than an hour to traverse the rugged mountain terrain before they finally reached their destination.

Lara had expected to find a cave or perhaps an abandoned military outpost. Instead, what stood before them was a dwelling carved directly into the rocky mountainside of Fengsel.

It was an unusual sight.

A small courtyard, enclosed by a waist-high wooden fence, stood in front of the stone dwelling. On the left was a modest vegetable garden, its neatly arranged rows of vegetables providing a touch of green against the otherwise barren landscape. On the opposite side stood an old stone well, its wooden bucket hanging from a weathered pulley.

It was a secluded place, far removed from the rest of the world.

Aquillo approached the wooden gate and knocked.

They waited for a while before hearing the slow shuffle of footsteps from inside.

The door eventually opened, revealing an elderly man with long white hair that fell to his chest. His equally long beard framed a deeply lined face, while his slightly stooped back and the wooden cane in his hand betrayed his advanced age.

For a moment, Lara found herself staring.

The old man’s appearance reminded her of Master Jethro in his twilight years. Perhaps it was the long white hair, the flowing beard, or the unmistakable air of an old warrior who had lived through more than his fair share of hardships.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her.

”Young man, what brings you here? And why have you brought outsiders with you?”

Aquillo flashed him a familiar smile.

”Grandpa Abel, aren’t you going to invite us in first? The journey up here nearly killed us. At least let us rest before you start interrogating us.”

The old man gave him an unimpressed look.

Aquillo chuckled before making the introductions.

”This is Ares Zuvel, and this is Larissa Reyes.”

Grandpa Abel snorted but stepped aside, allowing them to enter.

The interior was just as modest as the exterior.

The living room was barely three square meters, furnished with only two wooden chairs and a small dining table that could accommodate four people. Everything was old but meticulously maintained. The wooden furniture had darkened with age, and the faint scent of dried herbs lingered in the air.

There was little to suggest that anything of historical significance was hidden within these walls.

Aquillo wasted no time. He took out the parchment and handed it to the old man.

Grandpa Abel’s casual expression disappeared the moment he saw it.

”Where did you get this?”

His voice had changed. His fingers trembled slightly as he carefully unfolded the parchment, smoothing its creases with the tenderness of someone handling a priceless relic.

”We found it in the mountains of Ourea,” Ares answered.

”But the original clue before that was found Hevenfort.”

”Hevenfort?”

The old man’s eyes widened. He stared at the parchment for several seconds before slowly lifting his head.

”Then... the time has finally come.”

Without explaining further, he turned and disappeared into what appeared to be his bedroom.

A few moments later, he returned carrying two iron chests.

The first was roughly the size of a legal document, about four fingers thick. The second was considerably smaller, no bigger than a jewelry box.

Ares immediately recognized the keyhole in them.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved the key his mother had protected with her life.

For years, he had wondered what secrets the key concealed. Now, standing inside this secluded mountain dwelling, he was finally about to find out.

He inserted the key into the first chest.

CLICK!

The lock disengaged.

Ares slowly lifted the lid.

Inside were three pieces of parchment.

At first glance, they appeared completely ordinary. They were yellowed with age, yet remarkably well preserved. More importantly, there was not a single word, symbol, or marking on any of them.

They were completely blank.

Ares frowned.

He then unlocked the second chest.

Inside was a small porcelain jar, its surface decorated with faded patterns. It looked insignificant compared to the historical artifacts surrounding it, yet Grandpa Abel regarded it with particular care.

The old man took the three parchments and placed them on the dining table.

Then, with the practiced movements of someone who had performed the task countless times in his mind, he began arranging them.

He aligned their edges, adjusted their positions, and carefully fitted them together.

They were not three separate documents.

They were fragments of something much larger.

Once he was satisfied with their arrangement, Grandpa Abel retrieved the porcelain jar. He opened it and took out a small bottle containing a transparent liquid.

He glanced around before tearing a small strip of cloth from an old rag hanging behind the door.

After dipping it into the liquid, he gently dabbed the surface of the parchment.

”What is that?” Lara murmured, leaning closer.

Ares moved beside her, his gaze fixed on the seemingly blank document.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, almost imperceptibly, faint lines began appearing on the parchment.

One by one, the markings emerged.

Ancient letters surfaced from beneath the seemingly empty surface, followed by names, connecting lines, and intricate branches.

The blank parchment was slowly revealing its secrets.

Lara’s eyes widened.

Ares leaned closer, barely blinking as the writing became increasingly distinct.

Both instinctively reached for their phones and began taking photographs.

”This...” Grandpa Abel began, his voice filled with reverence. ”This is the genealogy of the Kromwel royal family. It traces the lineage back to Heimdal and his wife, Astrid.”

Lara and Ares exchanged a stunned glance.

Then they turned their attention back to the document.

Their eyes moved from one name to another, following the branches of the family tree.

Aquillo stood quietly to the side, observing their reactions.

He couldn’t quite understand what was going through their minds, but something about the way they studied the document unsettled him.

Why does it feel as though they’re looking at their own family tree?

Grandpa Abel pointed to the uppermost section.

”Originally, this genealogy was recorded on a single parchment. It began with Heimdal, then Emperor Alaric Kromwel and his five children with Empress Lara Norse.”

His finger slowly traced the branching lines.

”Over the following generations, the surviving descendants were added to the record. As the royal family expanded, additional parchments were created. Each could be fitted together to form one enormous document, showing the entire royal bloodline.”

He paused, his gaze growing distant.

”However, during the purge, the genealogy was deliberately divided into four fragments. Each was entrusted to the guardians of the different branches of the royal family.”

Lara’s expression turned solemn.

”Why are there only four fragments?”