All Chapters of The Return Of the God Of War: Chapter 181
- Chapter 190
200 chapters
SHADOWS OF THE PAST
The day was not over. It had only begun.The ridge still smoked, bodies sprawled across the broken earth, yet silence fell as every eye turned south. The convoy cut through the haze like a knife. Black, armored, deliberate. The insignia painted across the lead vehicle wasn’t Wu’s. It was older, sharper, carried with it the weight of something Ares had hoped never to see again.His blood chilled.Mira’s voice trembled as she whispered, “Who are they?”Ares didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes on the convoy, the way soldiers fanned out in disciplined precision. They weren’t mercenaries-for-hire. These were trained, ruthless, government-level operators. His jaw tightened. “They’re shadows,” he said finally. “Men I thought I buried years ago.”Elijah tugged at Mira’s hand, his small voice barely audible. “Papa?”Ares forced his expression still, crouching to meet his son’s eyes. “Stay close to your mother. Whatever happens, don’t run. Don’t hide. Stay with her.”The boy nodded, but
THE LION ON THE THRONE
The city was no longer theirs - it was his.Ares stood at the center of Lin City’s great square, where the statue of Victor Wu had once towered like a tyrant’s shadow. Now the bronze figure lay shattered, its head toppled beside broken stone. The people filled the square shoulder to shoulder, eyes lifted, breaths caught, waiting for him.The morning light struck his shoulders, and though he was only one man, he carried himself like an army. His coat was still torn from battle, blood stains dark against the fabric. He had not washed, had not slept more than an hour. Yet he did not bow beneath exhaustion. He had been forged in deserts and fire. This was nothing compared to Fallujah… compared to the nights he’d buried brothers beneath foreign soil.Reyes lifted his arm. “Lin City!” his voice thundered. “The God of War stands with you!”A roar rose from the crowd, raw and hungry. Men shouted his name. Women lifted children onto their shoulders. The chants shook windows, rattled the broken
THE EAST GATE RECKONING
“Tomorrow… that word had already cost them so much.”Mira said it under her breath as she stood on the balcony of the old Resistance Hall. Elijah lay heavy in her arms, asleep, his head pressed into her chest. She wished he could stay asleep forever. Anything to keep him from the sound outside - boots stamping, metal clanging, voices breaking under orders.The square below was no longer a square. It was a battlefield waiting to happen.Reyes stalked back and forth, barking, cursing, dragging terrified boys into lines. Hawk tossed weapons like scraps - rusted rifles, bent pipes, knives that looked stolen from kitchens. Some of the men holding them still wore aprons or work shirts. They had never held a weapon in their lives. And now they were supposed to defend a city.At the center of them all, steady as stone, was Ares.He didn’t bark. He didn’t need to. He walked the line slow, fixing straps, adjusting grips, resting a hand on a shaking shoulder until the shaking stopped. He spoke o
THE WEIGHT OF BETRAYAL
To her, he was still the husband who once promised her peace. And that promise already felt like something broken beyond repair...Mira didn’t look at him straight away. She stayed by the bed, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the blanket covering Elijah. The boy’s chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, the kind of rhythm Ares longed for inside himself but couldn’t find.The silence stretched. It wasn’t the soft silence of comfort - it was the heavy, airless kind.“Mira,” Ares said finally. His voice came out low, rough, almost unsteady. “I never meant - ”“Don’t,” she cut in quickly. Not loud. Just sharp.He stopped. The old Ares - the general, the commander - would’ve pressed forward, barked his reasoning until the other side folded. But this wasn’t a battlefield. This was his wife. And she looked like someone who had no fight left in her.Behind her, Elijah shifted, mumbling something half-dreamed. Mira leaned close, brushing the boy’s hair from his face. That simple act cut A
BREAKING POINT
What if he already had?The question sat heavy in Ares’s chest, pressing down until his breath came shallow. He stood in the lamplit room, the boards creaking faintly under his boots, while Mira held Elijah like she was guarding him from something monstrous. Maybe that monster was him.Her hand kept stroking Elijah’s hair in slow, steady circles, and it gutted Ares because she never looked at him anymore when she did that. Once, that tenderness had been his anchor. Now it was her wall.He tried to speak, but his throat closed. The silence pressed harder, thick, suffocating. When words finally broke through, they sounded foreign in his mouth. “Mira... please. Don’t shut me out.”Her voice was calm, but it cut deeper than shouting would have. “This isn’t about shutting you out. It’s about surviving you.”The words knocked the air from him. He stumbled a step forward, instinct pulling him closer. “I’m fighting to end this - so you don’t have to live in fear anymore. Every risk I take is
THE SIEGE AT THE DOOR
Not to the fragile hope that still clung to them.The thought tightened around Ares’s chest like a vice. His hands shook, not from fear but from being torn in two. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to fight, to end the noise thundering outside. Yet his heart anchored him here - inside this room where Mira’s silence cut sharper than any blade.The next explosion ended the debate. It was closer, heavy enough to rattle the glass panes. Elijah stirred, whining softly, his small fingers clutching tighter at Mira’s wrist. She hushed him quickly, rocking him without looking at Ares.A knock thundered at the door, not polite but demanding. Three hard blows. Then a voice - rough, commanding. “Open up! By order of the Council!”Mira’s head snapped toward the door, eyes wide. Ares’s grip on the knife tightened until his knuckles bleached white.Another blow landed, splintering the frame. “We know he’s inside! Surrender Ares Vassilis, or the whole block burns!”Mira’s face went pale. She ro
ASHES OF THE FALLEN
The flames roared higher, lighting the night like judgment.Ares didn’t move. He stood with his arms loose at his sides, the heat burning his skin, smoke clawing into his lungs. The building groaned and collapsed inward, a sound like bones breaking. Sparks scattered into the sky and vanished against the black. He let the fire punish him.Behind him, Mira had Elijah pressed into her chest, one hand over his head. She tried to shield the boy’s eyes, but Elijah squirmed, voice muffled. “Papa? What happened?”Ares crouched, ignoring the ash that bit into his knees. His son’s eyes were wet and wide, red from smoke. The question hung there like a blade.“I didn’t light this,” Ares said quietly, steadying his tone though his chest ached. “But I’ll make sure it ends. That’s my promise.”Elijah sniffed, then nodded, though he didn’t really understand.Mira’s stare cut deeper than the flames. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. Doubt was written in her silence.Hawk came running, coughing
THE GATHERING STORM
Ares woke with the taste of iron still in his mouth, the kind of taste that clings after a bad dream. Dawn bled through the blinds in thin lines. He sat up slow, joints complaining like old hinges, and found Mira already awake at the table, cup in hand, staring into nothing.Elijah slept on, jaw slack, fingers curled around a toy truck. Seeing him like that - so small, absurdly whole - pulled something raw in Ares. He wanted to put on a softer face and pretend he could be the man dream-people believed in. Instead he stood and walked to the sink, splashed water on his face until it stung, then slid into the jacket with the holes in the elbow. Practical armor.“Wu’s louder,” Mira said without looking up.“Yeah.” Ares shrugged. “He’s got cameras and money. He thinks the city will swallow whatever he says if it’s said with polish.”Mira let out a short, useless laugh. “People want neat stories. They don’t like the mess in between.”Ares looked at Elijah, then at Mira. “Then we make the me
THE FIRST STRIKE
The industrial quarter smelled of oil, wet concrete, and something sharper - fear. Ares stepped forward, boots splashing in puddles left from last night’s rain. Mira stayed close, her eyes scanning every shadow. Elijah slept against her shoulder, too small to understand, but he trusted them anyway.Ares felt the weight of the city pressing down, every alley a possible trap. Wu’s men were clever, but arrogance always left a trail. He crouched behind a stack of crates, scanning the flickering streetlights. One wrong step, one hesitation, and it would all collapse.“They’re small in numbers,” Hawk whispered from the other side of the crates, grin tight-lipped. “But loud. Wu loves theatrics.”Ares nodded, voice low. “Let them be loud. Makes them easier to locate.”Mira shifted beside him. “You think we can do this without losing anyone?”He didn’t answer immediately. Every fight carried risk. Every calculation had human error baked in. He touched Elijah’s shoulder gently. “We won’t lose e
ECHOES OF FIRE
The streets were quieter now, but the silence wasn’t peace. It was anticipation, like a storm gathering over the city’s bones. Ares walked with Mira close at his side, Elijah tucked into her arms. His boots scuffed wet asphalt, leaving marks that would vanish by morning but felt permanent to him.“Do you think they’ll come back?” Mira’s voice was low, tired, carrying the weight of uncertainty she rarely let show.“They will,” Ares said, flat, voice hard. “They always do when they think they can fight alone. And they’ll be sloppy.”Her eyes flicked to him, wary. “And if we’re wrong?”Ares didn’t answer immediately. His mind ran over positions, weak points, escape routes, and the predictable arrogance of Wu’s forces. “We won’t be,” he said finally. “We’ve tested them. They’re nervous. That’s all we need to know.”Elijah stirred, yawning against her chest. Ares’s hand brushed the boy’s head. “Time to rest,” he murmured. “Even storms sleep sometimes.”...Inside the safehouse, the fighter