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The General's Daughter: The Mission

Chapter 136: Finding A Lost Empire · Nov 05, 2026

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Chapter List (331)

Page number / 7

101 Chapter 101: Where Empires Sleep 2026-11-05
102 Chapter 102: War Of The Horses 2026-11-05
103 Chapter 103: War Of The Horses 2 2026-11-05
104 Chapter 104: On Horseback, Chasing The Past 2026-11-05
105 Chapter 105: Chasing The Past 2026-11-05
106 Chapter 106: Island In The Middle Of A Lake 2026-11-05
107 Chapter 107: Scarlet’s Schemes 2026-11-05
108 Chapter 108: Echoes Beneath The Lake 2026-11-05
109 Chapter 109: The Island’s Secrets 2026-11-05
110 Chapter 110: Asher Is Back 2026-11-05
111 Chapter 111: Whose Child Is She? 2026-11-05
112 Chapter 112: Whose Child Is She? 2026-11-05
113 Chapter 113: The Burden He Carried 2026-11-05
114 Chapter 114: A Debt Written In Blood 2026-11-05
115 Chapter 115: Are You Jealous? 2026-11-05
116 Chapter 116: The Seduction 2026-11-05
117 Chapter 117: The Weigth of Guilt 2026-11-05
118 Chapter 118: Brother! 2026-11-05
119 Chapter 119: Does He Like Her Too? 2026-11-05
120 Chapter 120: Ares’ Crisis 2026-11-05
121 Chapter 121: The Silent Gaze 2026-11-05
122 Chapter 122: Attacked! 2026-11-05
123 Chapter 123: Attacked 2! 2026-11-05
124 Chapter 124: He Is Injured 2026-11-05
125 Chapter 125: Finding Midnight 2026-11-05
126 Chapter 126: Midnight 2026-11-05
127 Chapter 127: Wrong Woman At His Bedside 2026-11-05
128 Chapter 128: Challenging Him 2026-11-05
129 Chapter 129: Too Close For Comfort 2026-11-05
130 Chapter 130: The Discovery 2026-11-05
131 Chapter 131: The Discovery 2 2026-11-05
132 Chapter 132: The Discovery 3 2026-11-05
133 Chapter 133: The Lost Era 2026-11-05
134 Chapter 134: The Lost Era 2 2026-11-05
135 Chapter 135: The Lost Era 3 2026-11-05
136 Chapter 136: Finding A Lost Empire 2026-11-05
137 Chapter 137: Finding A Lost Empire 2 2026-11-05
138 Chapter 138: Finding A Lost Empire 3 2026-11-05
139 Chapter 139: The Storm In The Net 2026-11-05
140 Chapter 140: The Empire Awakens 2026-11-05
141 Chapter 141: The Night That Did Not Sleep 2026-11-05
142 Chapter 142: The Country On Fire 2026-11-05
143 Chapter 143: The Dig 2026-11-05
144 Chapter 144: The Guardians 2026-11-05
145 Chapter 145: The Guardians 2 2026-11-05
146 Chapter 146: The Mystery Of The Lost Empire 2026-11-05
147 Chapter 147: Mystery Of The Lost Empire 2 2026-11-05
148 Chapter 148: The Date 2026-11-05
149 Chapter 149: The Psychiatrist 2026-11-05
150 Chapter 150: The Psychiatrist 2 2026-11-05

”I didn’t read it in textbooks,” she said. ”It was... written more like a novel.”

Her voice was steady — almost too steady.

As if she had rehearsed that exact explanation in her head long before anyone asked.

Ares’ gaze sharpened.

A novel.

The word echoed in his mind with quiet dissonance.

Technically plausible. Emotionally hollow.

It sounded like the kind of answer people gave when they wanted to close a door without making it obvious there was something behind it.

And then — unbidden — a memory surfaced.

A classified medical report he obtained from Hope Hospital. It was stamped restricted.

Subject: Larissa Reyes — Post-coma neurological observations.

He had only skimmed it at the time, more out of obligation than concern.

Now every line came back with unnerving clarity.

Patient exhibited disorientation upon waking. Spoke of unfamiliar titles and identities. Repeated references to being an ”empress.” Possible confabulation due to traumatic brain injury.

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

Could it be true?

When Larissa Reyes first regained consciousness, she had babbled about palaces... royalty... a life that did not exist.

He had dismissed it as post-traumatic confusion. Hallucinations. A brain trying to stitch itself back together after damage.

But now—

His gaze slid to the imperial coffin.Then back to her rigid shoulders.

The resemblance between the delusion in that report and the emotion she was displaying right now was... uncomfortable.

Could her mind really be that damaged?

Did she read something... and convince herself it was her past?

Or worse—

Was she still lost inside that fantasy?

Ares didn’t like the thought. Not because it made her fragile. Because it made her unpredictable.

And unpredictable people were dangerous — to themselves and to everyone around them.

Yet what he saw before him did not look like delusion. It looked like mourning.

Raw, private and devastating.

The air around her felt dense, almost viscous, as if grief itself had weight and mass. Even Logan, normally incapable of silence, had stopped speaking.

Something hung there. Unsaid. Unmovable.

Ares became acutely aware of every small detail — the faint tremor in her fingers, the unnatural stillness of her back, the way her breathing seemed too shallow for someone claiming to be fine.

She looked like a person holding herself together by sheer force of will.

And that unsettled him far more than panic would have.

Because panic was honest. This... was concealment.

For reasons he could not logically justify, a slow unease crept down his spine.

Not fear of the tomb. Not fear of hidden traps or ancient mechanisms.

Not even fear of what might be inside the coffins.

It was her.

Larissa Reyes — standing perfectly still before the emperor’s remains like a widow at a grave no one else knew she had lost.

The realization struck him with quiet force.

Whatever haunted her...it was not buried in this chamber.

It had walked in with her.

It breathed. It remembered. It suffered.

It was alive inside her.

And Ares had the unsettling suspicion that if it ever surfaced completely—

Nothing about Larissa Reyes would remain the same.

Nor, perhaps, would the world around her.

...

Lara tore her hand away from Alaric’s coffin as if the stone had burned her.

Before she could stop herself, her gaze drifted to the sarcophagus beside it.

Empress Lara Kromwel.

Her name.

Not Larissa Reyes.

That name.

Her throat tightened violently.

If she lifted the lid... would she see bones arranged in royal repose? Gold ornaments corroded by time? Silk turned to dust?

Would she be staring at the remains of the woman she had once been?

My own skeleton...

A violent shudder ran through her, crawling up her spine like icy fingers. The chamber suddenly felt too small, the air too thin, the weight of centuries pressing down on her ribs.

No.

She stepped back abruptly, almost stumbling off the dais, as if distance alone could sever whatever invisible tether bound her to that coffin.

Her shoes touched the lower marble with a soft, final sound.

Don’t look. Don’t touch. Don’t remember.

She turned away before the urge to open it could consume her.

Instead, she walked toward the first sarcophagus lining the chamber wall, forcing her breathing into something steady, controlled — the discipline of a woman who had survived far worse than grief.

The inscription was carved in bold, ancient lettering:

Heimdal Kromwel.

Beside it —

Astrid Kromwel.

Her father-in-law. And the mother-in-law she had never met... yet knew by heart.

A strange ache settled in her chest. It was neither sharp nor overwhelming.

It was quiet and familiar.

As if she were standing before the graves of relatives she had visited countless times.

Behind her, the chamber buzzed with excited voices.

Archaeologists clustered together, whispering loudly, cameras flashing, hands trembling as they recorded every detail.

”...the greatest discovery of the millennium...””...imperial lineage confirmed...””...intact burial site—unprecedented...”

On the opposite side, Liam and Logan were already deep in discussion with Philip Hardy, their tones low and tactical — perimeter control, personnel rotation, maritime surveillance, extraction protocols.

Normal concerns. Present-day concerns.

Lara barely heard any of it.

To her, the noise felt distant — like sound filtered through water.

She moved from coffin to coffin.

Slowly. Methodically.

Her fingertips hovered just above the stone surfaces, never quite touching, as if afraid contact would unleash something she could not contain.

At each one, she paused, closed her eyes, not in respect. bit in search.

Fragments stirred at the edges of her consciousness — a laugh here, a voice there, the echo of footsteps in palace corridors, sunlight through tall windows, the scent of ink and steel and winter air.

Nothing complete. Just impressions, like trying to recall a dream that dissolves the harder you chase it.

Ares watched her from a distance, unease coiling tighter in his gut with every step she took.

She didn’t look like a visitor.

She looked like someone walking through a family mausoleum.

Lucas shifted beside him, his usual restlessness subdued.

”...Why does this feel creepy?” he muttered under his breath.

Ares didn’t answer. Because he felt it too.

Lara stopped at a pair of coffins set slightly apart from the others.

Her breath caught.

The names were engraved side by side.

Aldrich Kromwel. Althea Kromwel.

Her vision blurred instantly.

Her firstborn. And his twin sister.

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