CHAPTER 1 Return of the King of War

At an abandoned graveyard, a tall figure stood silently before a tombstone. The original name had been scraped off, crudely replaced with one chilling word: Madwoman.

He had a strong jawline, piercing brown eyes, and a powerful posture. Dressed in a long black coat, he stood unmoving as the evening wind swept through his hair.

"Mom... I've returned," he whispered.

Ten years ago, Jaden's father had thrown his mother, him, and his little sister out of the house after falling for another woman. It was a cold, rainy night.

His mother had cried, begging at the gate, "Please... they're your children. Let them in."

But the man turned his back. The gate stayed shut.

With no other choice, his mother carried both children through the storm to the streets. They ended up in a shelter, where they were attacked by a thug. She fought him off to protect her kids, getting hurt in the process.

From that day on, life became hell.

Jaden had believed they'd survive—just the three of them—until one afternoon at school, he got a call from his mother.

"Jaden... I'm sorry. Please protect your sister... and leave Ravenmoor. Never come back."

That was the last thing she ever said.

She was forced to jump off a high-rise building. Her body was found in a pool of blood. Jaden ran home to find her lifeless form—and his little sister Julie, crying beside her.

"I'm scared, Jaden... I want Mom."

Julie was ten. Jaden was fourteen. From then on, he became her shield. Bullied, hungry, and broken, he fought to provide for her.

But the people who drove his mother to death weren't done yet.

One night, a man came at them with a blood stained dagger. Jaden thought it was over—until a mysterious stranger appeared. He killed the attacker in a flash and looked Jaden in the eye.

"Come with me, child."

Ten years passed.

The country was invaded by a neighboring force. One border post after another fell. Karethwyn's defense was crushed, its soldiers slaughtered. All hope seems lost.

Until a single soldier charged into the battlefield.

Jaden Rift.

The King of War.

He fought thousands single-handedly, tearing through enemy ranks like a storm. His wrath saved the nation. But before anyone could learn who he truly was, he vanished.

Now, he's back—stronger than ever.

And he's not here for mercy.

"It's been ten years since my father threw us out," Jaden growled, his fists clenched tight. "I've been bullied, humiliated, and cast aside."

He looked toward the city beyond the graveyard.

"But now... the King of War has returned to Ravenmoor. And I will make it tremble."

Suddenly, five men walked into the cemetery, their boots crunching over gravel.

"Hey! Are you blind or just stupid?" one of them barked. "Did no one tell you this is a restricted area?"

They moved closer, grinning as if they owned the place.

"What a coincidence," another added. "Miss Agatha sent us to finish the job today—scrape off this woman's name and carve Madwoman on her tombstone. And look at that, we've got our first admirer."

He chuckled. "What do you think, buddy? Nice work, huh?"

Jaden's fists clenched at the sound of that name.

Agatha White... Mom's ex-best friend.

She used to be like family—his mother's closest companion. But then a man came between them. A wealthy heir from the Thornfell family took interest in Jaden's mother, even knowing she had two kids. But she rejected him—she had no interest in love or men anymore.

Unfortunately, Agatha had her eyes on the same man.

But when she tried to shoot her shot, he casted her away.

When he chose Jaden's mom over her, Agatha snapped. She held a grudge ever since.

The White family ran a real estate empire, and Agatha used that power to destroy them—she had Jaden's childhood home demolished, forcing them onto the streets.

But that wasn't enough.

She sent threats. Promised to hurt Jaden and his sister. And when the pressure broke his mother, she jumped off a building—hoping Agatha would spare her kids.

She didn't.

Agatha sent a killer after them, but they were saved by that stranger that night.

Still not satisfied, Agatha declared that no one was allowed to mourn at Jaden's mother's grave. She fenced it off. Hired thugs to guard it. She even labeled her a madwoman.

"She's a cruel, heartless bitch," Jaden muttered through gritted teeth.

The men stood in front of him now, some holding shovels and tools.

"Move it," one said. "Today marks ten years since the madwoman kicked the bucket. Miss Agatha wants the tomb redone—this time, with Madwoman carved nice and big."

Jaden said nothing.

Another stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "We're talking to you, punk. Move, or I'll beat the shit out of you."

CHAPTER 2 The Madwoman's Grave

The leader of the gang, Paul, was the worst of them all. Out of everyone Agatha hired to guard the grave, he was the most vicious. He'd crippled people just for showing up with flowers.

He pulled out a cigarette, and one of his men lit it for him.

"Damn it," he muttered, exhaling smoke. "Today's Mr. Thornfell's birthday and his engagement party. I should be swimming in champagne and girls—not digging up some madwoman's grave."

Another thug stepped toward Jaden with a sneer. "You hear that? Mr. Paul's in a foul mood. So here's your only chance—get on your knees, apologize for trespassing, and maybe we'll let you walk. Otherwise, you're leaving here in pieces."

Jaden didn't move. His jaw clenched, his heart boiling with rage.

The thug spat on the grave.

Ptew!

"Nice shot," Paul laughed, and the others joined in, their laughter echoing across the cemetery.

Paul strode closer, his boots crunching the dry grass. "Come on, kid. Do what he said. Get on your knees. Or stay standing and get buried next to her."

The man who spat leaned in mockingly. "What's wrong? Never seen a man spit before?"

But Jaden had reached his limit.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the man by the collar and slammed his face into the rocky ground.

Crack!

The man screamed, blood spraying from his mouth as four teeth scattered across the dirt.

The others froze in disbelief.

Did he just lift that guy with one arm?

Jaden's eyes locked on Paul. Cold. Ruthless.

"You," Jaden said, his voice cold. "Lick it up. Every last drop."

The injured thug whimpered on the ground, blood pouring from his mouth.

"P-Paul! Help me! Please!"

He tried to crawl away, but Jaden stepped down hard on his ankle.

SNAP!

Another howl of agony pierced the air.

"You crazy bastard!" Paul shouted. "Do you know who I am?!"

He turned to the others. "Don't just stand there—take him down!"

One of them rushed at Jaden with a shovel, swinging it like a baseball bat.

Before the weapon got close, Jaden grabbed it mid-air, twisted it out of the thug's hands, and sent the man flying across the graveyard with a swift strike.

The thug landed with a crash, groaning as he struggled to breathe.

"You—what are you?!" Paul took a shaky step back.

"I told you," Jaden said, voice like thunder. "Lick. It. Off."

The injured thug didn't wait for another warning. Shaking, he dragged himself to the grave and began licking the spit away.

The others looked on, stunned and terrified.

Then—roaring engines.

Seven Hilux trucks pulled up in a synchronized line. The back of each was packed full of bricks of pure gold, gleaming under the sun.

Uniformed men stepped out, standing at attention as if they'd done this a thousand times.

Jaden gave a single command. "Start."

Immediately, the men got to work.

Before anyone could react, the air shifted again—seven long limousines rolled in, and behind them came military transport trucks.

Doors opened, and over a hundred armed soldiers stepped out and marched in formation toward the grave.

Without hesitation, they dropped to one knee in front of Jaden.

Paul's jaw fell open.

The other thugs stumbled backward.

"What the..."

"Is this a movie?"

"Who is this guy?!"

The soldiers bowed their heads in unison.

"My king!" they thundered.

Jaden nodded. "Begin."

"Yes, my king!"

The trucks began unloading. Gold. Equipment. Tools.

"Use all of it," one soldier barked. "This grave will be rebuilt in gold—exactly as ordered."

Paul could barely breathe. "Gold? For her? Is this guy insane?!"

"I don't think he's insane," another thug whispered. "I think he's powerful."

"I've never seen this much wealth in one place…"

"And he's spending all of it... for a dead woman?"

Jaden walked slowly to the grave and knelt, brushing the dirt gently from the tombstone.

"Mom," he whispered, "you always wanted a beautiful life. You used to tell me, 'Jaden, one day you'll be rich and you'll buy me a castle.'"

He smiled faintly, though his eyes burned.

"I'm sorry. I was too late."

He stood, fists clenched.

"But I'm not too late for revenge."

His voice hardened, turning to steel.

"Agatha White. That witch. I'll drag her to this grave. She'll kneel here. She'll cry for forgiveness. And I'll make her pay for every damn thing she did to you."

He stared down at the men still frozen in place.

Jaden's eyes narrowed, his voice a low growl.

"What were you just saying?"

His presence alone made the air feel heavier, charged with raw, murderous intent.

Paul dropped to his knees immediately, trembling.

"P-Please! Spare us! We were just hired help—I swear! Elder Dusk sent us! He's from the Thornfell family… He's also Miss Agatha's personal bodyguard!"

Jaden's expression shifted slightly.

"Thornfell family…" he muttered. "So that witch actually pulled it off. Manipulative as ever—marrying into power."

For a brief moment, his silence made Paul think he'd struck a nerve. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

He hesitated. He's afraid… I knew it.

Paul straightened slightly, encouraged by the shift.

"He's scared," he whispered under his breath. "Anyone would be after hearing Elder Dusk's name…"

Elder Dusk wasn't just a bodyguard. He was practically family—an elite fighter, feared and respected across the region. His reputation was legendary. Ruthless. Unbeatable. No one in their right mind would stand against him.

Not even this guy, Paul thought confidently. No matter how strong he looks, Elder Dusk would crush him.

CHAPTER 3 The White prestigious Hotel

But Jaden's eyes suddenly sharpened again—dark and unblinking.

"Then I'll deal with Elder Dusk," he said coldly. "And after that… the Thornfell family is next."

With a single wave of his hands a sharp gust of energy swept through the area like an invisible sword smashing through the thugs killing them in an instant as their blood plastered everywhere. Paul was the only one spared-or at least for now.

His smirked vanished as blood ran through his face.

"This is all a misunderstanding please don't kill me, I'll do whatever you want I'll leave this place and never return. Please forgive me." He pleaded as he bowed his head towards Jaden's feet.

"Forgiveness? The King of War shows no mercy to anyone that disrespects him!"

"The…are you the king of war?" Paul stammered, he'd heard stories of the legendary king of war who stopped the war and the savior of Karethwyn.

"No you're bluffing, you can't be the…"

Before he could finish his statement with a single swipe Jaden made his head explode.

The soldiers were still working as instructed.

Suddenly one of them soldiers walked to Jaden. "My king, as you instructed a piece of her ashes"

He handed over a golden Urn, it was wrapped at the top with a piece of red clothing that seemed to be stained with decayed blood.

"Thank you." Jaden said as he took the Urn. The piece of cloth was the cloth his mother wore before she died that brutal way.

He placed it on the ground and wrapped it with a blanket before carrying it up and giving it to the man.

"Let's go pay Agatha a visit, today's her son's celebration. I'll make sure Agatha eats this ashes!"

The man followed Jaden as they entered into one of the cars and zoomed off.

–The White's prestigious Hotel–

The White's hotel was among the top three most expensive hotels in Ravenmoor, only one percent of the one percent could afford such a place.

Jaden's car arrived at the entrance. He stepped out taking a view at the hotel, he clearly remembered this place. This used to be where his mother's family house was, before Agatha demolished it and built her hotel on the land. Not only did she take his mother's life, she also took her home.

"My king, I can take care of these people you don't need to step in." The man escorting Jaden said. He's Drax, a powerful warrior personally trained by Jaden, he alone could single-handedly kill hundred men.

Jaden replied. "No, go back to check on the grave, I'll handle this myself." He said as he took the Urn from him.

He strode toward the banquet hall. Inside, the wealthy mingled beneath golden chandeliers, and elegantly dressed women filled the room. It was truly a venue for elites and prestigious families.

All eyes turned as Jaden entered. Tall. Striking. Dangerous.

"Who is that?"

"He looks powerful… and loaded."

"He's mine tonight," one woman whispered, licking her lips. "You can tell he knows how to handle a woman."

But Jaden ignored them all. He walked straight to an empty table, slammed the urn down with a loud thud, and sat. He poured himself a glass of red wine, calm as ever.

"He's so cool," a girl sighed. "I've never seen anyone like him in Ravenmoor."

"My prince charming," another whispered dreamily.

Security was quick to respond. Their leader, Xavier, approached with a frown.

"Sir, this is a private event," he said firmly. "Invitation only."

Jaden didn't respond. Didn't even glance at him.

"I said, everyone needs an invitation and a gift to be allowed in. You barge in here, drink our wine like this is your father's lounge, and you think that's fine?"

Xavier pointed at the wrapped item on the table. "And what's that? We need to inspect it."

He reached for it.

Jaden grabbed his wrist and crushed it with a single squeeze.

"You're not worthy to touch that," he said coldly.

"Aaagh! My hand—!"

CHAPTER 4 Arrogant Stranger

"You're not important enough to know what's inside," Jaden said coldly, his grip tightening on Xavier's wrist like a vice. "Just go fetch Agatha Thornfell. This gift is for her."

Xavier gritted his teeth, veins bulging as he tried to break free, but it was like trying to move a mountain.

What the hell is this strength? he thought. It's like his hand is forged from iron!

With a final squeeze, Jaden released him. Xavier staggered backward and crashed into a table, splintering it into pieces as he hit the ground.

High above in the VIP lounge, Derek Thornfell leaned over the railing, glaring down at the commotion. Elder Dusk stood beside him, silent and composed, his silver-streaked beard catching the light.

"Who is that bastard?" Derek hissed. "Ruining my engagement party like this?"

Elder Dusk sipped his tea, unmoved. "A fly buzzing in the wrong room. If security fails, I'll swat him myself."

Derek smirked. With Elder Dusk at his side, he felt invincible.

Below, Xavier groaned as guards rushed to help him.

"Are you alright, sir?" one asked.

"Forget me, you idiots!" Xavier barked. "Tear that bastard apart!"

A dozen guards closed in on Jaden, batons drawn, when a voice cut through the tension.

"Stop."

A woman stepped into view—tall, shapely, draped in a skin-tight red dress that left little to the imagination. Every step she took was slow, calculated, seductive. It was Lady Mary, PR Director of White's Prestigious Hotel—known as much for her looks as for her ability to calm unruly VIPs.

"Lady Mary," Xavier muttered, rising shakily.

She ignored him and turned to Jaden, flashing a practiced smile. "Good evening, sir. I'm Lady Mary. I understand there's been some... confusion. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

However Jaden didn't even look at her twice. "I want to see Agatha, I brought a gift for her." He said.

"Miss Agatha isn't available at the moment, but you can give me the gist I'll make sure it reaches to her"

Her voice was honey-sweet, her hand reaching toward the urn as if she were plucking a flower.

Smack!

Her body twisted midair and slammed against the floor with a thud.

"Don't touch that," Jaden said flatly. "Not even you are worthy."

A stunned silence followed. The seductive smile vanished from Mary's face, replaced with pure outrage.

"You… you hit me?" she gasped, staggering to her feet. "Do you know who I am?!"

Before Jaden could respond, a stocky man stormed in, his round belly bouncing with each step. His forehead was slick with sweat, his voice loud enough to rattle the windows.

"Mary! What happened? Are you alright?"

It was Alex, the hotel manager—small in stature but loud in temper, and hopelessly obsessed with Mary.

"He struck me!" Mary said, fake tears forming in her eyes. "This lunatic dared to lay hands on me!"

Alex's face turned beet red. He spun to the guards.

"You morons! You just stood there?!"

Slap!

His hand struck Xavier across the face. "What the hell am I paying you for?!"

"I—I'm sorry, sir…"

"I don't want your sorry! I want results! Get this bastard out of here!"

He pointed a trembling finger at Jaden. "You! Get on your knees and apologize to Lady Mary. Do it now, or I'll make sure you don't leave this hotel in one piece!"

But Jaden didn't even flinch.

He swirled the wine in his glass, eyes distant. In his mind, he saw the past—his little sister running through these halls, laughter echoing off the walls. His mother humming while decorating the living room. This had been their home… until Agatha tore it all down.

"I'm talking to you, punk!" Alex shouted, stepping closer. "Are you deaf?!"

Still nothing. Jaden sipped the wine.

Alex lost it.

"Beat him down!"

The guards surged forward.

CHAPTER 5 Elder Dusk

Mr. Alex bent down and gently helped Mary to her feet, placing a supportive hand on her lower back. His voice dropped into a soft, almost seductive tone.

"Don't worry, Mary. Let my men take care of that lunatic. Come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe."

Mary looked up at him with a trembling smile, clutching his arm as though she were helpless. "Thank you, Mr. Alex. You're so sweet. I feel much better now."

But back on the floor, Xavier was already cracking his neck and gripping his baton with both hands. His face twisted into a snarl as he stepped forward, full of confidence now that the Thornfell name was backing him.

"You arrogant bastard," he hissed through clenched teeth. "You've messed with the wrong people. With the Thornfells behind me, your death won't even be a footnote."

He swung the baton with deadly force, aiming straight for Jaden's head.

But Jaden didn't flinch. He remained seated, calmly swirling the last bit of wine in his glass. Then, in a flash, his foot slammed against the marble floor with unnatural force.

BOOM!

A wave of invisible energy burst from under him, like a shockwave from a bomb blast. Every guard within a fifteen-foot radius was hurled into the air, crashing into tables, pillars, and walls like rag dolls. Plates shattered. Wine glasses exploded. The music stopped.

Mr. Alex, who had just reached the staircase with Mary, froze mid-step. His arm was still around her waist, but his eyes bulged as he turned to see his men scattered across the floor, groaning and twitching in pain.

"What the hell…" he stammered, his jaw slack. His knees almost gave out.

Jaden leaned back in his chair and casually took a sip of wine, completely unbothered.

Upstairs, Derek Thornfell choked on his drink, spraying red wine all over the railing as he stared in disbelief at the scene below.

"Elder Dusk… did you see that?" he asked, voice cracking. "That guy—he just sent more than ten men flying like leaves in the wind! What the hell is he?"

Elder Dusk, hands behind his back, slowly stroked his grey-streaked beard. His expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Hm… interesting. He's no ordinary thug. A refined martial artist, perhaps… or someone with a hidden background. Either way, I'll go see for myself."

"I'm coming with you," Derek snapped. "This is my engagement party. No one gets to ruin it and walk away unpunished."

The two men descended the staircase.

---

Back on the ground floor, Jaden placed his wine glass on the table and finally turned his full attention to Mr. Alex.

"You," he said calmly, his voice like a sharp blade cloaked in silk. "Come here."

Alex jolted, his face twisting with panic. "M–Me? Don't act stupid, boy! This hotel belongs to the Thornfells! You're crashing their event—the birthday and engagement party of Mr. Thornfell himself!"

He tried to puff his chest, but his voice wavered. "You… You better get on your knees and beg for forgiveness before you regret stepping in here. Mr. Thornfell's arriving soon. And trust me—you'll be sorry if he sees this mess!"

Around the room, whispers grew into a chorus of threats.

"Young man, if you have any sense left in you, kneel now! Apologize!"

"You're done for! No one defies the Thornfells!"

"You're as good as dead!"

Jaden didn't move. His expression didn't change. The noise around him seemed to fade into the background.

Alex took a shaky step backward. Seeing that Jaden wasn't reacting, he decided to bolt with Mary while he still could.

But Jaden's eyes flicked back to him.

"I said… come here," he repeated, louder this time.

Alex stopped in his tracks. His body went rigid.

At that exact moment, Elder Dusk and Derek reached the final step of the staircase. Alex's fear vanished instantly, replaced by a wicked grin.

"Ha! You're finished now!" he shouted, pointing at Jaden. "Elder Dusk! Mr. Thornfell! This bastard assaulted your men and disrespected Lady Mary! I request permission to kill him!"

Jaden slowly stood, towering now like a shadow over the room. He bent down, picked up a fallen baton from the shattered floor, and with a flick of his wrist, hurled it straight at Alex's legs.

CRACK!

The baton struck his shin like a hammer to dry bone. A sickening snap echoed across the hall. Alex collapsed instantly, screaming and clutching his leg, blood staining his pants.

"ARRRGH! My leg! You broke my leg!"

Jaden walked toward him with steady, unhurried steps. The crowd backed away in terror as the air seemed to grow colder with every footstep.

"You said you were going to kill me," Jaden said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "I don't show mercy to men with death wishes."

"No—please, wait! I didn't mean it! I was just trying to scare you!" Alex whimpered, crawling backwards. "Please—have mercy!"

Jaden didn't stop. He planted his boot on Alex's head and began pressing down slowly.

"Then you picked the wrong man to scare," he said coldly.

Cracks began to echo again—Alex's skull creaking under the pressure.

"AAHH! It hurts—stop—please!"

The audience watched in horror. Mary had dropped her act entirely, trembling as she clutched the wall behind her.

Suddenly—

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

The commanding voice echoed like thunder.

Derek Thornfell stepped forward, flanked by three stern-looking men in black suits and Elder Dusk walking behind, his hands still calmly behind his back.

The air shifted. The temperature seemed to drop even further as the two forces faced off.

And still, Jaden didn't take his foot off Alex's head.

CHAPTER 6 Prepare to die

Lady Mary wasted no time. As soon as she caught sight of Derek, she rushed to him like a frightened child running to a parent for protection. Her heels clacked rapidly on the marble floor as she closed the distance between them, and her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Mr. Thornfell! Thank God you're finally here!" she exclaimed, her expression full of desperation and urgency. "That stranger barged in without an invitation! I only asked him if he had one and—he just slapped me! He slapped me to the ground without a second thought! Then he beat Xavier senseless, threw around the guards like they were toys, and even threatened to kill Mr. Alex!"

Her voice cracked as she turned back to glance at the chaos behind her. "Please… you have to do something. Save us, Mr. Thornfell."

Derek's gaze remained steady as he listened to her panic-stricken plea. But instead of reacting emotionally, he simply replied with a cold, calm voice, "I already saw everything that happened."

Then, turning to face Jaden directly, Derek raised his hand and barked out an order, "Hey, you! Let him go. That's an order!"

Hearing those words, Alex—who was still pinned helplessly beneath Jaden's foot—felt a surge of hope and confidence wash over him. Relief flooded his battered face. With Derek and Elder Dusk finally stepping in, he believed this nightmare was coming to an end. He lifted his head slightly, managing a smug expression despite the pain in his leg.

"You're finished now, stranger," Alex sneered. "You've really messed up. You're going to ge—"

His sentence was abruptly cut off.

With a brutal and sudden movement, Jaden slammed Alex's head down onto the hard marble floor beneath them. The impact was devastating. Blood splattered instantly, painting the polished tiles with a grotesque splash of crimson. Bones cracked, and the thud echoed throughout the hall like a thunderclap.

Screams erupted across the room.

Gasps filled the air as everyone recoiled in horror at what they had just witnessed. Some covered their mouths, others looked away entirely, unable to stomach the gore.

"I don't forgive those who say they want me dead," Jaden said coldly, his voice devoid of sympathy. It was as if he were delivering a law of the universe—absolute and final.

He dusted his clothes casually, as if he had only stepped in a puddle, then turned his full attention to Derek. His expression didn't change as he took slow, deliberate steps toward the stunned host of the party.

"So…" he said with unsettling calm. "What were you saying again?"

Derek's eyes widened as Jaden approached. The weight of the aura coming from the man was suffocating. Cold sweat began forming on his forehead, and for the first time in years, he felt genuine fear. He took an involuntary step backward, his confidence evaporating.

"W-Who the hell are you?" Derek stammered, his voice lacking the usual authority.

Jaden's eyes narrowed slightly. "Were you the one who tried to order me?"

Derek's knees nearly gave out as the air around him seemed to thicken. It was as though death itself had stepped into the room and looked him in the eye. He would've fallen if not for Elder Dusk, who stepped forward quickly and steadied him by the shoulder.

"Are you alright, Mr. Thornfell?" Dusk asked calmly, though his eyes never left Jaden. Even he sensed the unusual danger.

The guests began whispering among themselves, unable to comprehend what they were seeing.

"Did that stranger just make Mr. Thornfell tremble with just a glare?"

"Derek's always been the untouchable one in this city! He bullies anyone he wants, hides behind the Thornfell name and Elder Dusk… and now look at him!"

"Just what kind of monster is this guy?"

Derek sat down slowly at Elder Dusk's urging, visibly shaken. His hands wouldn't stop trembling. His image as the untouchable rich heir was crumbling before everyone's eyes.

Dusk stepped forward calmly, adjusting the sleeves of his robe.

"You're strong," he admitted plainly, nodding once. "I won't deny it. But don't let that go to your head."

He raised his chin slightly, facing Jaden without blinking. "Still, even with your power, you'll only be able to withstand five hits from me. Surrender now. Get on your knees and apologize before it's too late."

The air in the hall shifted. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Guests looked at each other, uncertain what was going to happen next.

"Only five hits? That's a compliment. Most people don't survive even one from Elder Dusk!"

"Did you hear that? He's giving the guy a way out. That's the most mercy he's going to get!"

"He should just surrender already. What's the point of acting tough when your opponent is a legend?"

But Jaden didn't flinch. His face remained unreadable, his voice cold and deliberate.

"Dusk… so you're the Dusk?" he asked. "Tell me—are you the one who sent men to repaint and dig around that grave?"

Elder Dusk froze for a brief moment. His expression didn't change, but his eyes flickered with something. Recognition. Shock.

"How the hell does he know about the restricted cemetery?" Dusk wondered silently. "And more importantly… why is he talking about that grave? What business does he have with the Madwoman's resting place?"

Outwardly calm, Dusk waved to one of his men and gave a quick command. "Call Paul. Ask him what's happening at the cemetery. Now."

But before the man could reach for his phone, Jaden spoke again.

"No need to bother," he said flatly. "I already killed all of them."

The hall erupted again.

"What?!"

"He killed all the men stationed at the cemetery?!"

"That's suicide!"

Elder Dusk's eyes darkened. His muscles tensed beneath his robes, and his fists clenched at his sides.

"You arrogant bastard…" he growled, stepping forward. "That was your last chance. I'm giving you one final warning. Go down on your knees and beg for mercy!"

Jaden tilted his head, his gaze sharp as a blade.

"You must be delusional," he replied, tone colder than ice. "There's no universe where I kneel to an old man like you."

A collective gasp surged through the crowd like a wave crashing against rocks.

"He… he refused again?"

"This guy's crazy! He just signed his death warrant!"

"He doesn't know who he's dealing with!"

Dusk's knuckles cracked as he drew in a deep breath, his body beginning to glow faintly with power. The air began to shimmer, vibrating from the tension between the two.

"All right then," Dusk said, voice low and dangerous. "Prepare to die."

CHAPTER 7 Who's this Stranger?

"It's obvious you're in a hurry to meet your maker, old man," Jaden said calmly, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through the tension in the air like a blade.

Elder Dusk's eyes narrowed. "You arrogant bastard! I've had enough of your mouth!"

Without another word, he lunged forward, his clenched fist radiating a soft but unmistakable glow of energy. The crowd erupted, rising to their feet with excitement as the atmosphere charged with anticipation.

"Get him, Elder Dusk!"

"Teach this cocky stranger a lesson!"

"Crush him!"

The elders of Ravenmoor were feared for a reason, and Dusk was among the most ruthless. People held their breath, certain they were about to witness Jaden's body sprawled lifeless on the ground.

Dusk's fist cut through the air like a missile, accompanied by a fierce gust of wind. It was a strike meant to shatter bones and crush pride.

But instead of the expected outcome, the entire hall froze in disbelief.

Jaden had caught the punch.

Effortlessly.

With one hand.

The glow from Dusk's fist fizzled out like a candle flame. His expression twisted in disbelief.

"Too much talk for such a weak punch," Jaden said, his grip tightening.

A collective gasp echoed around the hall.

"He... he caught Elder Dusk's fist?"

"Is he even human?!"

Jaden's eyes remained locked onto his opponent, unblinking and cold. "My turn."

He drove his other hand forward in a precise, devastating blow straight to Dusk's chest.

Crack!

The sickening sound of bone fracturing filled the room.

Dusk flew backwards like a ragdoll, his body slamming into the wall with enough force to fracture the bricks. Blood burst from his mouth as he slumped to the ground, wheezing, clutching his chest in agony.

"W-What... what are you?" Dusk stammered, pain etched across his face. "You're a monster…"

The once-feared elder lay helpless, his strength and pride crushed under Jaden's foot.

Jaden didn't respond immediately. He took a slow step forward, his gaze drifting around the hall as memories returned—memories wrapped in grief.

"There used to be a swing right here," Jaden said quietly, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "White ropes, wooden seat. My sister loved it."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"Did you destroy it too?"

Dusk blinked, confused.

"I and my sister used to swing all day until we got tired," Jaden continued, lost in the memory. "Then she'd run to her music box. It played her favorite tune. She said it sounded like peace."

His voice hardened as he stepped closer to Dusk. "Did you get rid of that too?"

Dusk growled through the pain. "What the hell are you talking about? Answer my question—who the hell are you?!"

A guard rushed to his side and helped him to his feet.

"I don't care who you are," Dusk spat. "You might be strong, but I serve the Thornfells. And Lucian Thornfell—the current Patriarch—is the strongest man in Ravenmoor. He runs this city. No one stands above him."

Jaden's eyes darkened at that name.

Lucian Thornfell.

The man who once chased after his mother like a hound in heat. Who, after she rejected him, somehow ended up married to Agatha—the very woman who mocked their family.

Back then, Lucian was invincible in the eyes of Ravenmoor. No one could beat him. No one dared challenge him.

Jaden had once admired him.

Until the day he overheard the truth.

"I'm the most desirable man in the city," Lucian had sneered. "And I come from one of the most powerful families. Do you seriously think I'd fall for some pathetic divorcee with two brats? I only wanted to get her in bed. That should've been an honor for her."

"Oh Lucian, you're so cunning," Agatha had laughed.

That memory cut deeper than any blade.

Lucian was part of the reason his mother jumped off that rooftop. Jaden never forgot. And he never forgave.

"You've messed with the wrong people," Dusk warned. "Ruined his son's party. If you kneel now and squat a thousand times, maybe our master will be merciful."

Dusk smirked. Jaden was quiet. Too quiet.

"He's silent now," Dusk thought. "As soon as I mentioned Lucian, he froze. No one dares defy the Thornfells."

But his confidence evaporated with Jaden's next words.

"I asked about my sister's music box," Jaden said, voice laced with fury. "Not to hear your delusional garbage."

Without warning, he stretched out his palm. A pulse of kinetic energy exploded from it, slamming into Elder Dusk and hurling him back into the wall with double the force of the first strike. This time, bones cracked audibly—more than one.

"Argh!" Dusk screamed before falling limp, unconscious.

"Wh-Who is this guy?!" someone shouted, terror in their voice.

"He just took out Elder Dusk again! Like it was nothing!"

Lady Mary clutched her chest, trembling. "It can't be… No one's ever defeated Elder Dusk!"

Chaos broke out in the hall. Guards stepped back, not daring to intervene.

Jaden straightened his coat, then calmly turned toward Derek Thornfell, who had been frozen in his seat the entire time, pale and wide-eyed.

He stopped a few feet away, voice calm but threatening.

"What about you, little Thornfell?" Jaden asked. "Have you seen my sister's music box?"

CHAPTER 8 Engagement arrangement

"I haven't, please! I don't know what you're talking about. This hotel was built ten years ago, and I've never seen any music box," Derek stammered, visibly shaking. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his lips trembled as he tried to steady himself in front of Jaden. "B-but I can order one right away! Just tell me what kind you want. I'll get it, I promise!"

Jaden stared at him, expression calm yet unreadable.

"Do that," he said coldly. "I want the one that plays lullabies."

Derek nodded rapidly. "Y-yes… Yes, I'll take care of it immediately!"

--- -Meanwhile, on the upper floor of the hotel, inside a lavish private suite, a meeting was underway. The room was brightly lit, elegant and quiet. Four people sat around a polished oak table—two of them being Mr. and Mrs. Winston, with their daughter Hannah seated between them, and the fourth was a sharply dressed woman in her late forties, Emilia Smith, the elder sister of Agatha Thornfell.

"Mr. Winston," Emilia began as she leaned forward slightly, her tone smooth and professional, "this engagement is a big step—not just for our families, but for the image of Ravenmoor itself. Your daughter, Hannah, is one of the most admired young women in the city. And Derek, my nephew, is one of the rising stars of our generation. Together, they'll make a very strong couple."

Mrs. Winston smiled nervously, while Hannah simply lowered her eyes. Her fingers were tightly clasped in her lap, and not once had she smiled since the meeting began.

"I must apologize on behalf of my sister Agatha and her husband Lucian," Emilia continued. "They're out of town, caught up in an urgent matter overseas. I'm handling things on their behalf and will be hosting the engagement party tonight."

"I hope that's not a problem?"

"Not at all," Donald Winston said, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "In fact, President Emilia, it's an honor to have you here. Your reputation speaks for itself. Ravenmoor respects you."

"You're too kind," she replied with a gracious nod.

Donald turned to Hannah, who was still seated with a distant expression on her face. "Hannah," he said, voice calm but firm, "make sure you enjoy your time with Derek. Smile more. Appear happy. That's important."

"I understand, Father," she said softly, exchanging a silent glance with him.

She didn't need to be reminded of what was at stake. The Winston family was drowning in debt—fifty million, to be exact. Their empire was collapsing, and they had already burned through most of their connections, begging for help that never came.

Until Derek Thornfell showed interest in her.

And along with that came his promise to wipe their debts clean—if Hannah agreed to be his fiancée. There was no romance here, no love. Only pressure. Only strategy.

And she hated it.

Hannah didn't want to marry Derek. She never loved him. Her heart still clung to the stranger who had once saved her life from an attempted kidnapping. That man was a ghost now, faceless in her memory, yet unforgettable.

Before she could drift deeper into thought, the door suddenly burst open.

A guard stood there, panting, blood on his sleeve. "President Emilia! There's a man downstairs… He's causing chaos. He destroyed the decorations, killed Manager Alex, severely injured Elder Dusk—and now he's threatening Mr. Thornfell!"

The room froze.

"What?" Emilia stood instantly. "Who the hell is this person?! He's going to regret this!"

Even Hannah was startled. "He injured Elder Dusk? That doesn't make any sense. Who would dare—"

"Let me handle this," Donald said, standing up as he reached inside his coat. "This is the perfect moment to prove our loyalty to the Thornfells."

He pulled out a grey card—sleek, metallic, engraved with the Winston family crest.

"Take this," he said, handing it to the guard. "Show it to him. Tell him it's an official order from the Winstons to surrender."

The guard's eyes widened. He accepted the card like it was a sacred relic.

"A grey card... Yes, sir! He'll tremble when he sees this!"

Grey cards weren't toys. They symbolized status, legacy, power. Only the seven elite families of Ravenmoor had them, and even though the Winstons were faltering, their name still carried weight.

"I appreciate your help, Mr. Winston," Emilia said with genuine relief. "Thank you for stepping in."

"It's nothing," he replied. "We're family now—we support each other."

Hannah stood. "I'm going downstairs now, Father."

"Alright, sweetheart. Don't forget what I told you," Donald replied with a nod.

She gave a small gesture and left the room.

As she descended the stairs, all eyes turned to her. Hannah Winston was easily among the top three most beautiful women in the city.

"Wow, so that's the famous Hannah Winston?" one guest whispered.

"She's just as stunning as the rumors say," another murmured.

But Hannah's attention was on the chaos—the hall was wrecked, and several guards were groaning on the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" she asked aloud, unsure if one man could really be responsible for all this.

Then her gaze locked onto Jaden.

Her eyes widened in shock.

"It's him!" she whispered.

CHAPTER 9 The mysterious hero

Two years ago, Hannah and her father were driving back from a failed business meeting. The deal had collapsed last minute. Their so-called partner turned out to be a fraud—and a dangerous one. On the way back, they noticed a black SUV following them. At first, they ignored it. Then another one joined.

The driver tried to shake them off. It didn't work.

They were soon cornered on a narrow road outside the city.

Hannah and her father jumped out, hoping to run, but the two vehicles didn't stop. They accelerated, heading straight at them.

In that moment, Hannah froze. She thought it was over. She was sure of it.

But before the cars could reach them, someone dropped out of the sky. Literally.

A man landed between them and the cars and stopped both vehicles with his bare hands. The ground cracked beneath him, the hoods of the cars crumpled, and everything went still.

Hannah remembered standing there, speechless, heart racing.

He looked like something out of a movie.

She tried to speak, but he didn't give her the chance. He disappeared just as fast as he arrived.

Since that day, she never stopped thinking about him.

Every man she met after that, she compared to him. None of them came close.

Not even Derek.

---

"Hannah?" someone called.

She didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the man standing across the room. He looked different now. Taller. Older. But it was him. She knew it.

Without thinking, she ran.

Derek, watching from a few feet away, smiled to himself. One of his men leaned over and tapped his shoulder.

"Hannah?" one of the guests blinked. "Isn't that—?"

One of Derek's men gently tapped him on the shoulder. "Sir, it's your fiancée. Looks like she's coming this way."

Derek turned, and his face lit up with a dopey grin. "She's running to me?" he muttered under his breath. "All this time, I've been chasing her… and now she's finally falling for me."

He smoothed his hair, adjusted his tie, and spread his arms wide with anticipation.

"Hannah! You look stunning! Come here, sweetheart!" he said with his eyes closed, grinning.

But then—

She passed right by him.

Derek's smile froze.

The crowd gasped.

And then she threw her arms around Jaden.

"You're that man…" she whispered. "The one from two years ago. I've never forgotten you."

Jaden stood stiffly, arms at his sides, caught completely off-guard.

Even with all his strength and discipline, he wasn't prepared for this.

Derek turned around slowly, disbelief painted on his face. "What…?"

Whispers swirled through the room.

"What the hell is wrong with Miss Winston doing? She's cheating on Mr. Thornfell in front of him?"

"Is she out of her mind?"

"Anyone but this arrogant stranger?"

"I see, so that's why this stranger came to the party in the first place."

"She's not only embarrassing herself but her entire family. Pathetic!"

Everyone was criticising her, as Derek stood in shock and embarrassment.

Back when they were kids in Ravenmoor.

He was the quiet boy in torn shoes, too poor to fit in. She was the girl from a powerful family who ignored the whispers and sat beside him anyway.

When the others mocked him, she stood up for him.

She made space for him in a world that didn't want him there.

Hannah Winston had been his only friend.

If it wasn't for her Jaden wasn't sure he would have survived that school with his sister.

He'd carried that kindness in his heart, and he never forgot.

So when he saw her again that night—scared, cornered, helpless—he didn't hesitate.

But he hadn't meant for her to recognize him. He had kept his face in the shadows, just another stranger passing through. That was safer—for both of them.

"I'm Hannah Winston," she said softly, stepping back to get a better look at him. "But you can just call me Hannah."

She smiled, eyes warm with recognition and something else—something deeper.

"Can I know your name?"

Jaden paused. A heartbeat passed.

Then he gave her the name he always used when he wanted to stay hidden.

"My name is… Lee Rift."

"Lee Rift," she repeated, tilting her head. "That's funny. I used to have a close friend with that last name."

She let out a small laugh, then looked down, her smile fading. "I haven't seen him in over ten years. I wonder where he is now…"

Jaden's chest tightened.

She didn't know. Not yet.

But she still remembered him.

"That friend of yours," he said quietly. "You'll see him again. When the time is right."

CHAPTER 10 Why's he so close to Hannah?

Back on the upper floor…

"Looks like the commotion downstairs has settled," Mr. Winston said, glancing toward the stairs.

"Yes, I noticed too." Emilia took a sip of her wine, then smiled. "That was quite impressive of you, Mr. Winston. I didn't expect you to step in like that."

"I told you already, Ms. White, our families are practically one. There's no need to separate sides anymore."

"You're absolutely right. Once your daughter officially becomes a Thornfell, it'll be a blessing for both families," she said, smiling. "Hopefully, she'll give us beautiful grandkids too—just like her."

"Of course. Beauty runs in our bloodline," Mr. Winston chuckled.

They both laughed quietly, enjoying the moment.

Donald, however, glanced around impatiently. "What's taking that guard so long? I need the grey card back."

As if on cue, the doors opened and the guard walked in, slightly out of breath.

"Ms. Emilia, Mr. Donald… that guy—the stranger—he's…"

Donald raised a hand and cut him off. "I know, I know. He's probably pissing his pants now after realizing whose card he held. That's the Winston name, after all."

"No, it's not that," the guard interrupted firmly. "Mr. Winston—Miss Winston was… intimate with him. In front of everyone."

Donald's grin faded for a second, but he waved it off again. "Oh, that? That's fine. Derek and Hannah are practically a couple. Gen Z love doing things their own way. It's all part of their bonding. Actually, I told her to get closer to him. She's always been shy, so I'm glad she's stepping up."

"Exactly," Emilia chimed in, clearly entertained. "I can't wait to see what their children look like. My sister and brother-in-law would be thrilled."

The guard looked at both of them, confused. "No—I don't think it was Derek."

That made Donald pause.

"What do you mean?" His voice was flatter now, less amused.

"Mr. Winston," the guard said, turning to him with urgency, "please come with me. You need to see this."

Donald stood up slowly, Emilia watching with curiosity as he followed the guard out of the room. They walked down the hallway to the glass railing. The guard pointed below.

There, on the main floor, stood Hannah.

But she wasn't with Derek.

She was with the same man from earlier—the so-called 'nuisance'—and they were standing close. Too close. Laughing. Talking. Comfortable.

Donald's eyes narrowed. His face twisted.

"What the hell is this?" he barked.

Emilia came rushing out. "What's going on? Did Derek do something again?" she asked.

Derek had a track record—and not a good one. The Thornfells had managed to bury his behavior over the years. One of the most serious incidents had been at a nightclub, where Derek had tried to force himself on a girl who turned him down. The matter nearly reached the public, but their lawyers and connections made it disappear. There had been others, swept under the rug just as quickly.

As Emilia reached the railing and looked down, her smile dropped.

"What nonsense is this?" she snapped. "Mr. Winston, why is your daughter standing with another man—that man—like that?"

Mr. Winston looked genuinely confused. "I… I don't know."

"We were just talking about how your card scared off some commoner," Donald muttered, still staring. "Now he's here, chatting up your daughter like he owns the place?"

"I swear, I don't even know who he is," Mr. Winston replied, raising his hands slightly.

"This is not acceptable!" Emilia shouted. "That girl is supposed to marry my nephew. I won't let her embarrass the Thornfell name in front of all these people."

Her voice was sharp and loud now. People nearby began to glance in their direction.

"You better find out what's going on, Mr. Winston," she warned coldly. "Or you'll explain it directly to my brother-in-law."

"Miss White, I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you," Donald said sharply, his patience already thinning. "I know my daughter. She's not the type to act carelessly."

Emilia scoffed. "Some things don't need explanation. As long as that man has no ties to your family, she has no business standing that close to him. You saw it yourself—there's no mistaking what it looked like."

Donald clenched his jaw. He didn't want to agree, but he couldn't deny the scene unfolding below. "Allow me to speak to my daughter," he said, trying to keep his tone steady. "I'm sure there's an explanation. There has to be."

"Good," Emilia said stiffly. "Because if there isn't, this entire arrangement is done."

Without another word, the two of them descended the stairs, their steps quick and heavy. Every eye in the hall seemed to shift toward them. The mood changed instantly.

Donald's anger boiled over by the time they reached the floor. His voice rang out before he even got close.

"Hannah!" he roared. "What the hell do you think you're doing with that man? In front of everyone? Have you lost your damn mind?!"

The crowd froze. Conversations stopped. All eyes turned to Hannah and Jaden.

Hannah quickly stepped away from Jaden and walked up to her father, urgency in her voice. "Dad, it's him. The man who saved us that night. Don't you remember?"

She grabbed his arm, shaking him slightly.

Donald's eyes narrowed. After a pause, realization hit him.

"Oh… So you're the one. The man I've been trying to find for nearly two years." He moved forward, face lighting up as he extended his hand. "I searched everywhere. No one could trace you. Not a single clue."

He grasped Jaden's hand firmly. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be alive right now. Thank you, truly."

"It's fine, sir," Jaden replied calmly.

Donald took a closer look at his face, eyes squinting slightly. "You… you look familiar."

"I thought so too, Dad," Hannah said quickly. "But he's not Jaden. He said his name is Lee."

Jaden smiled faintly. The moment was almost nostalgic. When they were younger, Hannah used to bring him and his sister over after school. Donald had always welcomed them like his own. Made sure they ate before leaving. For a wealthy man in Ravenmoor, kindness like that was rare.

Before anyone could say more, Derek rushed in and grabbed Emilia's arm.

"Aunty! Thank God you're here," he said breathlessly. "That man—he's insane! He came in here carrying something wrapped in a white cloth, beat up the guards, and nearly killed Elder Dusk!"

CHAPTER 11 The Reaper is here

Emilia's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?! Don't worry, Derek. No one walks into the Thornfell estate and causes chaos without consequences. He'll be punished."

With her anger boiling over, she stormed toward Donald.

"Mr. Winston, what is this?" she snapped, pointing at Jaden. "This is the explanation you went to ask for? Supporting your daughter while she hooks up with another man—in front of my nephew? I don't expect you to be this shameless!"

Donald's expression hardened.

He'd tolerated Emilia's condescension long enough. But now, she was crossing the line. No one insulted his daughter in front of him—no matter what. Even if he's family is facing some financial challenges they're still part of the seven elites of Ravenmoor, he wouldn't tolerate anyone speaking to him in this manner.

"That's enough out of you," he snapped. "Don't you dare speak about my daughter like that."

Emilia blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Donald said coldly. "You don't get to stand here and call my daughter a 'hookup' just because your precious nephew got jealous."

Emilia's face twisted. "You ungrateful bastard. I trusted you! And this is what I get? Betrayal? Letting your daughter whore herself around in public?"

"Watch your mouth. The Winston's are still part of the elites of this city!"

"No—I won't, elites my foot, we all know your family is crumbling at the moment and you only gave out your daughter because you needed help from the Thornfells." she spat. "You raised a disgrace. If we hadn't found out now, my nephew would've ended up marrying public property!"

Donald bowed his head in shame, there was an atom of truth in what she was saying.

Hannah gasped. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm calling off the engagement immediately," Emilia continued. "And since we already paid off half your debt as part of the bride price, I expect you to return it tenfold. If not, my brother-in-law will make sure you pay with more than just money."

Hannah's voice cracked. "How can you say that about me? How could you humiliate me like this?"

Emilia's eyes blazed. "Shut your mouth, you little whore. Both of you—kneel and apologize to Derek. Or I swear, I'll make sure you regret ever showing your face here."

She pointed directly at them.

Jaden took a single step forward, eyes like steel. "And how exactly do you plan to make us kneel?"

His voice was calm. Too calm.

"You've crossed a line, boy," Emilia growled. "You're going to regret every word."

She turned sharply. "Kael!"

The room fell into a chilling silence.

An older man descended the stairs slowly. He wore a dark blue robe, his hands folded behind his back, his expression unreadable.

"Yes, President Emilia?" he asked, his voice smooth and quiet.

As soon as Hannah saw him, her breath hitched. Her entire body tensed.

"M-Master Kael…" she whispered, voice shaking. "He's here."

Her hands trembled as she grabbed Jaden's arm. "Jaden, please… it's him. The Reaper. He's Lucian Thornfell's top enforcer. He's done unthinkable things. If we defy him, we won't get a second chance."

She tried to pull Jaden back, her voice barely a whisper. "Please… just kneel. Apologize. We won't survive otherwise."

As Kael stepped into the hall, his very presence silenced the murmurs, dread settling over the room like a stormcloud.

Emilia didn't waste a second. Her voice rang with venom. "I don't want him dead quickly, Kael. Drag it out. Break every bone in his body. I want him to beg before he dies."

Derek chimed in, pointing furiously at Jaden. "He dared to steal my fiancée right in front of me! This is the most humiliating day of my life—kill him, Kael! Tear him apart!"

Still bleeding and limping, Dusk leaned on two guards, his robes stained red. Yet the sight of Kael brought a sneer to his face. "Master Kael... finally. Justice has arrived. I knew pretending to be dead would pay off. Now that you're here, I can breathe easy. He won't last a minute against you."

Kael didn't step closer. He didn't need to. His voice was cold, emotionless, carrying across the hall like the toll of a bell.

"Young man," he said, hands still behind his back, "you've offended the wrong people. You have five seconds to kneel—or die."

"Five seconds?" Emilia hissed. "He's giving him an option? I told you to kill him, not preach to him! What is this mercy?"

But even in her rage, Emilia knew better. Kael wasn't her lapdog. He was Lucian Thornfell's blade—and she was just a relative by marriage. She bit down her fury and watched, seething.

Derek saw her hesitation and stepped forward, puffed up with false courage. "You hear that? You're lucky Master Kael is being generous. But make no mistake—you're already finished."

Then he spun on Hannah, voice dripping with spite. "And you—shameless wench. You dare flirt with this trash in my presence? You'll regret ever disrespecting me!"

Hannah shrank back, trembling but defiant. "I never loved you, Derek! Leave me alone!"

"You what?!" Derek's eyes widened in rage. He lunged at her, hand raised high—

SLAP!

But it wasn't his hand that struck.

Jaden's palm cracked across Derek's face like a whip, sending him flying to the marble floor. The hall gasped.

Jaden didn't flinch. His voice remained flat. "Where's the music box I told you to bring?"

Derek let out a pained howl, clutching his cheek. "Y-you still have the nerve to ask about that damned thing—in front of Master Kael? Kill him! Master Kael, kill this bastard now!"

And Kael moved.

Gasps echoed across the hall as the feared enforcer surged forward.

"This fool's dead!" someone whispered.

"No one survives the Reaper," another muttered.

"Arrogant to the end... asking for a music box? In front of Kael?"

Dusk pumped his fist weakly, eyes wild. "Yes! He's finished now. He may have beaten me—but Kael is in a league of his own."

Emilia's eyes gleamed. "End him!" she barked.

Derek, still on the floor, sneered through swollen lips. "I'll make him grovel once Kael's done. He'll crawl like a dog at my feet."

Kael's fist lit up with swirling energy—raw destruction in motion—as he charged. But then—he stopped.

His eyes caught something.

A golden insignia plate gleamed faintly on Jaden's shoulder.

Kael's pupils shrank. His steps faltered. His fist lowered.

That plate... no one else bore it.

Only one man was ever given that insignia.

The King of War.

Kael's voice dropped, barely audible. "That... that can't be... Who are you?"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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The wind howled through the abandoned graveyard, carrying whispers of the dead. I stood before the cracked tombstone, the name scraped away, replaced with a single word: Madwoman.

Ten years. A lifetime. I’d fought wars, crushed armies, become a myth. But here, I was just Jaden Rift—the boy who watched his mother die, who failed to protect his sister.

"Mom... I've returned," I whispered, fingers brushing the cold stone.

Then came the boots. Five men, smirking, tools in hand.

"Move it," one growled. "Miss Agatha wants this grave redone—Madwoman carved nice and big."

Agatha White. My mother’s so-called friend. The woman who destroyed us.

My fists clenched. The air thickened.

"You hear that?" another thug sneered. "Get on your knees, apologize, or leave in pieces."

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

He spat on the grave.

That was the last mistake he ever made.

In one motion, I grabbed him by the collar and slammed his face into the ground. Teeth shattered. Blood sprayed.

"You," I said, voice like ice. "Lick it up. Every drop."

They froze. Then laughed.

Mistake number two.

Before I could act, engines roared. Seven Hilux trucks rolled in, packed with gold bricks. Then limousines. Then military transports.

Over a hundred soldiers poured out. Dropped to one knee.

"My king!"

The thugs stumbled back, eyes wide.

I looked at the leader, Paul, still on his feet.

"What were you just saying?"