The Swordswoman’s Revenge Story after Rebirth

Chapter 21 We Will Get It Back

Matilda and Eleanor possibly couldn’t miss such a spectacle.

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Seeing Geoffrey consumed with rage, Matilda stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. “My lord, must it come to this? Surely, words can resolve this without tearing apart the bond of father and daughter.”

Even as she spoke, her hand clamped onto Isolde Langley’s arm with cruel force, her nails biting into the wounds already there. “Isolde, do as your father says. Keel. Plead for his forgiveness and let his anger subside.”

Geoffrey’s face darkened further, his voice like a rolling storm. “Kneel and take your punishment, and 1 will be merciful. Defy me, and if I beat you to death, it will at least settle things with your mother?

Isolde lifted her chin defiantly. “Then do it. If I so much as cry out, I’ll have no complaints.”

The whip cracked through the air and struck her arm, searing her flesh. Isolde didn’t flinch, her expression hard, though the fiery pain surged from her arm to herskull.

“Kneel!” Geoffrey roared again.

Isolde raised her blood–smeared face, her voice laced with derision. “Is that the best you can do? Show me the strength you take to the battlefield. If you’re going to strike your own daughter, at least strike with some honor. This is nothing–I’ve killed bandits with more force than that.”

Geoffrey’s fury erupted. He struck again and again, each lash cutting into her flesh, reopening old wounds. Blood streaked down her arms and pooled at her feet, but she didn’t waver

Watching from the side, Matilda and Eleanor smirked with cruel satisfaction, their eyes glinting with malice.

Hearing the commotion, Helena–weak and gravely injured–crawled from the shadows, her voice trembling as she clung to Isolde. “Please, my lord, have mercy!”

Isolde’s gaze burned with anger as she looked at Geoffrey. “Go on! Beat me to death if you can. At least it’ll settle this miserable bond. I owe you nothing but the life you gave me. You never raised me. The estate 1 live on is my mother’s; two years of your food doesn’t buy my soul. Let’s finish this here and now.”

face twisted with rage. Her words struck like daggers. He swung the whip viciously, but the blow landed on Helena’s frail back instead. She

she wouldn’t release Isolde. Her

let go, the butler struck her hard across the face. “How

her limit, crumpled to the

stomach, sending him sprawling. “You miserable cur! How dare you lay a hand on her? Do

a breaking point. He lashed out wildly, the whip striking Isolde’s

back.

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freely, blinding her, drenching her in crimson. Her body swayed, trembling on

trickled into her month, and she

his whip once more–but this time, Isole caught it midair.

her grip held firm. Shock flickered across his

into her palm, blood spilling onto the floor, yet she refused to let

you lay a hand on me or mine again, I swear on my life, I will burn this house

she wrenched the whip from his grasp and stood tall, defiant, as blood dripped

a clean arc. With a thick of her wrist, it struck the stone table beside her. The solid table cracked clean in two with a thunderous sound, scattering fine dust that spiraled upwards before settling back to the ground.

stood rooted in

someone with only a few decorative tricks, never imagining her martial skills to be so

giving way. The world around her blurred and spun like a flickering lantern,

the ground. “Mother. I can’t

escaped her lips in a faint whisper before unconsciousness claimed her. Yet, even that frail murmur sent a tremor through the Geoffrey’s heart.

quickly stepped forward and barked, “Someone, help Lady Matilda at once! If anyone dares to ask why she didn’t return

elopement only stoked the Geoffrey’s fury further, dousing whatever flicker

physician to treat her injuries,” he ordered coldly. “And have her examined. If she’s no longer pure, the engagement will be called off. Send her back to

brewed in his chest, anger mingling with sorrow. She returned from the manor so well–behaved, so dutiful–how did things come to this? Killings on a whim, lashing

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