All Chapters of ALL HAIL THE GOLDMASTER: Chapter 171
- Chapter 180
205 chapters
Chapter 171. The Country Watches.
The first images hit the morning broadcasts like a shockwave. Screens flickered in kitchens, offices, buses, and living rooms, news alerts flashing across every digital device, social media platforms erupting with chaos as the raw, unedited footage of the revolutionary army’s demise poured in. It wasn’t filtered. It wasn’t sanitized. Names, faces, moments of brutal clarity, the executions, the fallen captains, the shattered soldiers, all of it laid bare in front of the nation.In one cramped apartment on the fifth floor of a gray, aging building, Marissa pressed her hands to the cold glass of her window, phone in the other hand vibrating constantly with notifications. “No… no… this can’t be real,” she muttered, voice trembling, eyes wide. She watched clips of armored units being torn apart, elite captains falling, the fear etched on faces she had only ever seen in propaganda. Outside, the street began to stir as neighbors poured out of their apartments, staring at screens in the windo
Chapter 172. Survivors.
POV: NoelNoel sat on the cracked concrete floor of what remained of the command center, legs sprawled, shadow forms flickering weakly around him as he tried to catch his breath. Every movement hurt, every breath burned, and the metallic tang of blood mixed with smoke clung to his nostrils. He looked over at Cassandra, slumped against a collapsed wall, telekinetic energy still sparking faintly from her fingertips despite her exhaustion, her chest rising and falling unevenly, every inhale a battle in itself.Alex lay nearby, one arm across his face, groaning as he shifted slightly, the pulse of his injuries echoing in the stillness around them. Noel’s own body throbbed with every heartbeat, muscles screaming, bones aching, the kind of pain that reminded you you were still alive but barely. They were survivors, yes, but surviving like this wasn’t a victory, it was a weight pressing down, a constant reminder of everything they had done, everything they had destroyed.He glanced around t
Chapter 173. Protocol Breach.
POV: President’s AideThe limousine rolled to a stop at the reinforced gates of the forward command center, black paint glinting under the harsh sunlight. Inside, the President’s aide leaned back in his seat, fists tightening against the leather, jaw set in rigid frustration. Every second that had passed since the footage went public had gnawed at him, a political firestorm building faster than any disaster drill had ever prepared him for.By the time he stepped onto the concrete tarmac, his shoes crunching against gravel, the aides lining the entrance gave him wide berth, sensing the storm radiating from him. He did not pause to acknowledge them, eyes scanning immediately for Seth, for anyone who could explain how an entire revolutionary army had been wiped out, exposed, and broadcasted before the government had a chance to even speak.Seth was waiting. Calm, unflinching, almost casual in the chaos, the man who had shattered months of planning, protocol, and hierarchy. The aide’s pul
Chapter 174. Recognition.
POV: SethThe hall was grand, meticulously arranged, banners hung high, polished floors reflecting light off brass fixtures, and rows of officials and military personnel standing stiffly, faces carefully arranged in expressions of respect that barely disguised calculation. Medals glinted under the chandeliers, the shine almost harsh in the otherwise somber room. The President’s aide stood near the podium, jaw tight, glancing occasionally at Seth, weighing every word, every motion, knowing that the performance about to unfold was as much about appearances as it was about genuine recognition.Seth walked forward steadily, his boots clicking against the marble with deliberate precision. There was no swagger, no trace of pride in his stride, only the slow certainty of someone who had walked through fires and emerged untouched, carrying the weight of countless deaths, countless choices, and the raw truth of a revolution ended. Behind him, Alex, Noel, and Cassandra followed, each limping s
Chapter 175. What Do You Want?
POV: SethThe room was thick with polished decorum, applause fading like echoes into the gilded walls, the ceremonial claps still lingering awkwardly in the air, like everyone present wasn’t quite sure whether they were allowed to stop. Seth stood before the President’s aide, medals heavy against his chest, ribbons gleaming in the artificial lights, eyes steady, unfazed, and completely focused on the man in front of him. The aide, who had spent the entire ceremony balancing fury, powerlessness, and the need to maintain governmental image, now cleared his throat and spoke with careful precision, the words sounding rehearsed even to him.“You have done… extraordinary work,” the aide began, voice smooth but tight, measured, each word a trap for his own frustration. “The government, the military, the nation, recognizes the… sacrifices you have made. In light of this… your contribution requires… recompense. You have honor, recognition, medals—but I ask you now, personally… what do you wan
Chapter 176. Rose Tyrel.
POV: SethThe sterile white corridor stretched endlessly ahead, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound, rhythmic and almost hypnotic, carrying with it the faint scent of antiseptic, electricity, and something heavier anticipation. Seth walked slowly, boots echoing softly against the polished floor, each step a measured acknowledgment that this was the moment he had chased across every battle, every mission, every sleepless night since he first lost her.He stopped before the chamber. A reinforced glass wall separated him from her. The water-filled tube shimmered, light refracting off the surface, making the fluid appear alive, a living ocean trapped in a cylindrical prison. Inside, Rose Tyrel floated, small and fragile, her body partially restrained by straps and surrounded by a lattice of Astra-site crystals that grew along her arms, subtle veins of violet light pulsing gently as if responding to some internal rhythm.Seth’s eyes narrowed, scanning every detail, noting the sma
Chapter 177. Aftermath.
POV: CassandraThe sun was low, casting long shadows across the ruined remnants of the revolutionary army’s base, its crumbling walls a stark reminder of everything that had transpired. Cassandra walked slowly among the debris, boots crunching against splintered concrete, scattered weapons, and the shattered pieces of barricades that had once been the backbone of a fanatical regime. Smoke still curled faintly from fires that had burned themselves out hours ago, carrying a bitter scent that lingered in the air, clinging to her clothes, to her hair, and even, somehow, to her own skin. She took a deep breath, the taste of ash and blood sharp against her tongue, and allowed herself a moment to simply observe.Seth had done what no one else could, what no one else would dare. He had walked into the teeth of a revolutionary army, alone or nearly so, wielding the full measure of his power, and walked out unscathed. The captains lay dead, the leadership shattered, and the country was now awa
Chapter 178. The System Adjusts.
POV: Virek The office was quiet, but not silent. The hum of servers, the soft click of monitors, the faint whistle of air filtration—it was all that filled the room, yet in the sterile, fluorescent-lit environment, tension lingered like a living thing, pressing against the walls. Virek leaned over the polished mahogany desk, arms folded, eyes narrowed on the live feed of the destroyed revolutionary base. The images flickered, grainy but unmistakable, showing the crumbling walls, the shattered defenses, the aftermath of carnage, and the unmistakable movements of Seth walking through it all... alive, unbroken, unstoppable. Virek’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t there. He hadn’t been caught in the crossfire. He hadn’t faced the apex of Seth’s wrath firsthand, yet the devastation was undeniable. Entire operations, meticulously planned for months, wi
Chapter 179. The Man They Can’t Undo.
POV: SethThe Red House loomed ahead, its white columns gleaming faintly in the late afternoon sun, the sprawling gardens whispering of centuries of power, of politics, of history shaped and reshaped in corridors no one outside could ever truly see. Seth approached slowly, boots crunching against the gravel path, a measured pace that betrayed none of the weight he carried, the weight of battles, of decisions, of lives taken, and lives saved. The air was crisp, but beneath it ran a tension, a quiet hum of expectation, of protocol, of people who had spent their lives orchestrating appearances, and now found themselves confronted with someone who could not be contained, could not be managed, and could not be undone.He passed under the grand portico, the heavy doors opening with a muted click, revealing the vast interior where polished marble met gold trim and crystal chandeliers reflected the light with almost sarcastic brilliance. Seth’s presence drew attention immediately. Generals,
Chapter 180. Rose’s Numbers Change.
Seth's POV The words General Cane left him with did not echo, they settled, heavy and unmoving, like stones placed carefully in his chest. Seth walked the Red House halls afterward without direction, not lost, just thinking, the kind of thinking that did not loop but sharpened. Cane had not threatened him, had not warned him out of kindness either, it was worse than that, it was familiarity, the tone of a man who had watched the system chew through people until the act stopped feeling cruel and started feeling routine. Useful, celebrated, discarded. The Tyrel family had followed that exact arc, not dramatically, not publicly, but completely. They had stopped being necessary, and so the city of Velkor had simply exhaled and moved on. Contracts vanished. Names lost weight. Doors closed softly instead of slamming. Seth had ignored the family itself for quite a while, had reduced the name Tyrel to Rose and Alex