The tip of Chay Morgan' sword burst through the heart of the Targaryen Commander.Dark blood began to splurge from his mouth and his nose, his eyes almost bulging out of its socket as he stared deadly into Chay’s cold eyes. “The supreme commander is dead!”The enemy soldiers immediately froze, and in no time, they began to flee, meeting their demise, while the rest threw their weapons down and fell on their knees in surrender. Another battle won. The battlefield belonged to Chay and his armies yet again. In the midst of everyone celebrating yet another victory, Chay fell on his knees and completely zoned out. All he could see was a blur vision of his armies rejoicing, the surviving enemies being captured and medics attending to the injured. This was the end of a journey for him. Memories he made on this battlefield began to flood his mind in a split second, and his heart ached. This was his final battle as a god-of-war, and knowing this, felt like closing the final chapter of a

He was a second too late. The steel club had already fallen.It crashed into Nana's skull with a sickening crack.Blood sprayed across the wooden floor.Her frail body twitched once…...then went still.Silence. The six men instinctively turned to look at the shattered doorway. Their hands quickly found their pistols, knives also flashing from beneath jackets. The leader ripped a small knife from the back of his waistband ready to launch it across the room, while the others spread out on instinct, forming a half circle. Then, they froze, Standing in the splintered remains of the front door was a man. He was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders that seemed capable of carrying mountains. His black military combat coat was torn in several places from the battle he had just left.Fresh cuts lined his forearms, and dried blood… some of his, most not his… stained his sleeves and face. His combat knife still rested in his hand, its blade dripping with dark blood that hadn’t y

For one strange heartbeat, the only sound inside the house was the rain striking the broken roof. Then–Gunfire exploded. Three men opened fire while the others charged from different angles, believing numbers alone would bury the man standing before them.Chay disappeared. Well, not literally.He moved so fast that their eyes couldn't keep up.The first volley ripped through empty air where he'd been standing a fraction of a second earlier.“W-Where–“A sharp crack echoed. CRACK!One gunman collapsed before finishing the sentence. Before he knew it, Chay had reached behind him and snapped his neck in a quick, sharp twist. His rifle never hit the ground and Chay had already caught it.Another man lunged with a machete, repeatedly slicing it through the air without stopping.Steel sliced through the air, but Chay fearlessly stepped inside the swing.His elbow drove into the man's chest with frightening precision. His ribs broke into tiny fragments, piercing his organs all at the sam

“That woman,” Chay declared, his voice cold and chilly as he descended the marble staircase one measured step at a time, “is mine.”Silence swallowed the hall. Hundreds of eyes followed him. Each step echoed throughout the chamber. Clack. Clack. Clack.The sound alone seemed to squeeze the air from the room. As Chay descended down slowly, the scent hit him. Wine. Blood. Perfume. Fear. His fingers slowly tightened. Nothing had changed. Ten years… yet this place still smelled exactly the same. It still had the same polished marble. The velvet curtains and the golden chandeliers were the same. The same laughter and of course, the same sickness. Memories crashed into him without warning. He was a young, innocent man chained to a post, with a leather whip splitting his skin. He could remember how he didn’t even have a second to catch a break. Wealthy men raised glasses while placing bets on how long he could stay conscious. Women laughed. The host didn’t cease to make jokes as