Emperor Of War

Chapter Fifteen: The Symbol of Death

Adam Swift's POV

The card slipped from the man's trembling fingers. His face had gone completely pale. Sweat rolled down his forehead despite the cool night breeze.

His lips quivered as if he had just seen a ghost.

"No..." His voice barely escaped his throat. "It... it can't be..."

The crowd exchanged puzzled glances. None of them understood what had frightened the once-arrogant thug.

A few moments earlier, he had been waving a pistol and threatening innocent people. Now he looked like a man standing before death itself.

I remained silent. Dax folded his arms, his expression unreadable. The thug slowly bent down and picked up the black metal card with shaking hands.

Etched into its center was a silver emblem—a sword piercing through a crowned eagle. It was not merely a symbol. It was a warning.

Across battlefields and underworld circles alike, it represented only one man. The Emperor of War. "You..."

The thug looked at me, his eyes widening. "You're... you're him."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"The Emperor of War?"

"What does that mean?"

"I've never heard that title before."

The thug swallowed hard.

His breathing became uneven. "I heard stories..." He spoke as though afraid the words themselves would summon death. "They said an entire mercenary army disappeared overnight after crossing him." "They said warlords offered fortunes just to learn his identity." "They said no one who challenged him ever lived long enough to regret it."

The crowd fell silent. The old man stared at me in disbelief. Even his son looked at me with new eyes. I had no interest in legends. Legends exaggerated the truth. Reality was far more brutal.

I stepped closer. The thug instinctively crawled backward.

"Who sent you?"

My voice was calm. Cold. He hesitated. My gaze hardened. "I won't ask twice."

His body shivered. "We... we work for Black Fang."

Dax's expression changed slightly. I noticed.

"Black Fang?" He nodded. "A criminal syndicate."

The thug quickly continued. "They control this district." "They collect debts... run illegal businesses... and answer to powerful people."

I crouched before him. "Who leads them?"

His face turned pale again. "I... I don't know."

I remained silent.

"The boss never shows his face," he rushed to explain. "We only receive orders through captains." "And your captain?"

He hesitated. I slowly drew my sword. The polished blade reflected the streetlights.

"I'll talk!" He almost screamed. "Our captain is meeting someone tonight."

"Where?"

"At the Harbor Warehouse."

Dax immediately memorized the location. I slid the sword back into its sheath. The thug released a long breath. He thought he had survived.

"You've answered my questions."

Relief flooded his face.

Then I added quietly, "But you still haven't paid for what you did."

Before he understood my meaning, my fist struck his chest. The impact sent him crashing across the pavement. He rolled several times before lying still. Unconscious. The remaining three men immediately dropped to their knees.

They lowered their heads.

"We surrender!"

"We're finished!"

"Please spare us!"

Cowards.

A few minutes ago they had terrorized an old man and his son. Now they begged for mercy.

I looked at Dax. "Call the police."

The three men froze. One of them looked up in shock.

"The... police?"

I nodded. "They'll answer for their crimes in court."

Dax smiled faintly. "As you wish."

He stepped aside and made the call. The crowd looked surprised. Most expected me to kill them. Perhaps the old Adam would have. But revenge was different from justice. These men deserved punishment. Not execution.

I turned toward the old man. He struggled to stand. His son quickly supported him.

"Thank you." His eyes glistened with tears. "If you hadn't come..." His voice broke. "I don't know what would have happened."

I simply nodded. "No father should have to beg for his child's safety."

The old man's shoulders trembled. He reached into his worn jacket and produced an old wallet.

"I don't have much..." He pulled out a small stack of worn bills. "But please accept this."

I smiled for the first time that night. "Keep your money."

He looked confused. "You'll need it more than I do."

The old man's eyes reddened. He bowed deeply. "So do I at least know the name of the man who saved us?"

For a moment, I considered walking away without answering. Instead, I said quietly, "Adam."

Nothing more. Nothing less. The old man repeated the name under his breath as though committing it to memory.

Moments later, police sirens echoed through the streets. People quickly dispersed. No one wanted unnecessary attention.

Dax walked back to my side. "The Harbor Warehouse." He looked at me. "I don't think tonight is over."

I looked toward the distant skyline. Neither did I.

If Black Fang truly worked beneath someone powerful… Then following them might lead us closer to Jackson Carter. Every thread I pulled seemed connected to the same web. A web built on corruption. On blood. On betrayal.

As we reached the black military vehicle parked nearby, Dax's phone suddenly vibrated. He answered immediately.

His expression darkened. "What is it?"

He lowered the phone slowly. "The Hayes family."

My heart skipped a beat. "They've returned to Quinzerland."

Silence settled between us. Derek's words echoed in my mind. Your brother is alive. I slowly closed the vehicle door. For the first time in ten years...

Revenge was no longer my only destination. Somewhere within this city… There was a chance… My brother was waiting.