The General's Daughter: The Mission

Lara already knew the answer in her heart.

Still, she needed to hear it.

Grandpa Abel let out a heavy sigh.

”Prince Edward, the fifth prince, had only one surviving child in three generations. Unfortunately, that entire branch was wiped out during the purge. None of his descendants survived to carry on the bloodline.”

Ares reached beneath the table and clasped Lara’s hand.

His grip was firm, almost instinctive.

For a brief moment, their eyes met.

There was no need for words.

He understood what was going through her mind. Perhaps she was thinking about the lives they had once lived, the people they had lost, and the fate that had befallen their descendants.

But Ares wanted her to understand something.

That was another lifetime.

They were no longer those people.

Whatever had happened in the past, they were here now, and they still had a future to live.

Lara returned his gaze with a faint nod.

Together, they turned their attention back to the genealogy.

They spent a considerable amount of time studying the document, tracing the different branches and examining the names of their descendants.

However, the records stopped approximately a hundred years ago.

Ares frowned.

”What happened after that?”

Grandpa Abel shook his head.

”That is as far as the records go. The guardians used to visit periodically to exchange information and update the genealogy. But eventually, those visits stopped.”

Lara’s eyes settled on two particular branches.

They discovered that the descendants of Aldrich, the firstborn, had abandoned the Kromwel surname and adopted the name Belmont to escape the purge.

Meanwhile, Althea’s descendants had taken the surname Nades.

Now, it is confirmed though recorded documents. Randell Belmont, Ares’ maternal grandfather was a descendant of Aldrich and Persius Nades from Althea.

The royal bloodline had survived.

It had simply disappeared beneath generations of assumed identities.

Ares finally lifted his head.

”Why are you revealing these secrets to us?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the old man.

”We are strangers. Aren’t you afraid we’re nothing more than treasure hunters who came here to rob you of your antiques?”

He gestured toward the two iron boxes.

Grandpa Abel met his gaze without the slightest hesitation.

”Because you have the parchment, and you have the key.”

His voice was calm but firm.

”Those two things were never meant to fall into the hands of outsiders. They were entrusted to the descendants of the royal family for a reason.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. Like Lara, he too fell that he was looking at a familiar old man.

”It can only mean one thing. You are a descendant of one of the four surviving branches of the Kromwel bloodline.”

Ares looked at the old man with a complicated gaze.

”Who are you, Grandpa Abel? And how did your family come into possession of these things?”

The old man looked at him for a moment before answering.

”My ancestors were appointed as guardian to Prince Henry, who was the reigning emperor when the great disaster struck and then, when the subsequent purge happened. He was a descendant of Emperor Aldrich.”

He paused before continuing.

”Our family can trace its roots back to Ivan Mendel.”

Lara’s breath caught.

Ivan Mendel.

Suddenly, the old man’s resemblance to Master Jethro made sense.

No wonder she had felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity when she first saw him.

”During the purge, my ancestors decided to flee to Fengsel,” Grandpa Abel continued. ”They believed that the safest place to hide was somewhere no one would think to look. And what could be more secure than an isolated island surrounded by treacherous waters where hard core criminals were kept?”

He gave a faint, humorless smile.

”For generations, our family guarded these records. Every now and then, guardians from the other branches would find their way here and provide updates. According to my great-grandfather, the last visitors came about a hundred years ago.”

His eyes drifted back to the parchment that almost covered the entire table.

”After that, nothing. No visitors. No messages. No news.”

He fell silent.

The old man slowly reached for the larger iron chest and pulled it against his chest as though embracing a long-lost family member.

Tears began rolling down his deeply wrinkled cheeks.

”I thought...” His voice cracked. ”I thought the Kromwel legacy would be buried here forever. I thought our ancestors had sacrificed everything for nothing.”

He drew a shaky breath, his eyes glistening.

”But now, thank God, you’ve come. This means Hevenfort has finally been discovered.”

His gaze shifted to the parchment.

”That’s the only way you could have obtained the fourth fragment. The clue where to find it, was hidden in Hevenfort.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

The old man had spent his entire life guarding a legacy that the world had seemingly forgotten. He had no wealth, no recognition, and no royal privileges. All he had were a few ancient parchments and a promise passed down through generations.

Yet he had never abandoned his duty.

Lara’s expression softened. She approached him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

”Grandpa Abel.”

The old man slowly looked up.

”Would you like to come with us?”

He blinked, seemingly unable to understand her question.

”Come with you? Where?”

Lara smiled faintly.

”To Calma.”

The old man’s lips parted.

”Calma? That place?”

”It used to be Laguna. But when the Royal Mausoleum was discovered followed by Hevenfort, it was given back it’s original name, Calma.”

The old man burst into tears.

”Can I come? I only heard stories about it from my grandfather when I was a boy.”

”Of course,” Lara replied. ”It’s time for you to see what remains of the Kromwel legacy. You’re no longer the only one guarding it.”

For several seconds, Grandpa Abel simply stared at her.

Then his gaze shifted to Ares.

Ares gave him a firm nod.

”She’s right. You’ve guarded these records long enough. It’s time you met the people whose bloodline you’ve spent your entire life protecting.”

Grandpa Abel’s hands tightened around the iron chest.

Could it really be possible?

After more than centuries of silence, had the scattered descendants of the Kromwel royal family finally found their way home?