From Rags to God of War

The battle is far from over

Nicholas gritted his teeth, grabbing the sterile tweezers. He applied them to the wound, looking for an opening. Isabella winced, watching Nicholas probe his own skin. Sweat beaded on Nicholas's forehead; he let out a soft groan as the tweezers went deeper, trying to get a grip on the bullet.

Isabella felt nauseous, like she was going to throw up. But she knew she couldn't stop. She had to help Nicholas. She focused on her tasks, wiping away the steady flow of blood, holding the light steady. Finally, with a small clink, Nicholas managed to grasp the bullet. With a powerful tug and a grunt of pain, he pulled the small bullet free.

A small, bloodied chunk of metal was now in Nicholas's tweezers. He dropped it onto a clean cloth.

"More antiseptic," he rasped.

Isabella poured antiseptic onto the cotton, then cleaned the gaping wound where the bullet had just been extracted. Nicholas bit his lip, holding back the sting. Then, Nicholas skillfully took a needle and thread from the box and stitched up his own wound. Isabella could only watch in silence, her eyes welling up, a mix of awe and horror.

Once the wound was neatly closed with a few crude stitches, Nicholas took a fresh bandage, and Isabella helped him wrap his arm properly.

...

Not long after, just as Isabella had finished helping Nicholas lie down, her phone rang again. It was Jessica.

"Isabella? How'd it go?" Jessica asked, her voice laced with worry.

"It's done," Isabella replied, her voice still trembling slightly. "The bullet's out. Nicholas got it out himself."

On the other end, Jessica let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I'm on my way. I'll be there in about an hour. How's Nicholas? Is he okay?"

Isabella looked over at the bed. Nicholas was already fast asleep, his face looking peaceful after all the ordeal. "He's asleep."

"Make sure he stays monitored. Don't let him get dehydrated. If he wakes up, give him some water. Don't let him move too much just yet."

"Okay, Jessica," Isabella replied. She sat down in the chair beside the bed, staring at Nicholas. An overwhelming exhaustion washed over her. Unconsciously, she drifted off to sleep herself, watching over her husband.

...

As dawn began to break, Nicholas opened his eyes. The pain in his arm was still there, but it was far less intense. He saw Isabella asleep in the chair beside the bed, her head slumped.

A faint smile touched Nicholas's lips. He was a War God accustomed to wounds, but a strange warmth spread through his chest seeing Isabella worry about him so much.

Nicholas slowly got up, looking nothing like someone who had just been shot and performed surgery on himself hours earlier. He walked over to Isabella, bent down, then gently lifted his lightweight wife. He carried Isabella to the bed, tucked her in carefully, and kissed her forehead.

Then, Nicholas headed to the kitchen. The aroma of scrambled eggs and fresh coffee began to fill the house.

A short while later, Isabella woke up. The delicious smell of food tickled her nose. She got up, a little unsteady, then walked to the kitchen. Nicholas stood by the stove, flipping scrambled eggs with one hand. His injured arm was now wrapped in a new, neater bandage.

"Nicholas!" Isabella exclaimed, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep. "What are you doing? You're still hurt, and you're up making breakfast! You should be resting!"

Nicholas smiled. "I'm already recovered. You took care of my wound so well. And now, we can enjoy breakfast together. I've made your favorite scrambled eggs."

Isabella stared at Nicholas, disbelieving. The man looked so normal, as if nothing had happened last night. She looked at the bandage on Nicholas's arm, then back at his face.

She sat down at the dining table, then began to eat the breakfast Nicholas had made. Mid-meal, Isabella's phone rang. She answered it.

"Hello..." Isabella spoke for a moment, her expression turning slightly annoyed. "No. I can't come in today. Please cancel all my appointments."

Nicholas looked at her. "What's up?"

Isabella hung up the phone. "Just a call from my secretary. But I'm not going to the office today. I need to look after you, Nicholas."

Nicholas suddenly leaned his head on Isabella's shoulder, caressing her hair, then let out a soft moan. "Oh, Isabella... you really are the best wife. I need extra care today. This arm hurts so much. I'm weak and need your attention all day." He put on a ridiculously pathetic expression.

Isabella snorted. She had seen Nicholas moving around the kitchen, standing, walking, acting as if nothing had happened. "Weak, you say? I just saw you totally fine, even cooking breakfast. Your acting skills are terrible."

...

After a devastating defeat by Nicholas, Serafina staggered back to her hidden inn in a squalid corner of the city.

Her body ached everywhere, and she was still coughing up blood occasionally. Upon arriving, she immediately sought out her traditional medicine, a thick green paste she typically used to treat wounds.

With trembling hands, she spread the concoction over the bruises on her body, into her gaping wounds. The pain was searing, but she endured it.

Compared to all the physical injuries, the shame and vengeance burning in her heart ran far deeper. She knew she'd need several days, perhaps a week, to fully regain her strength.

As she was busy treating herself, the door to her inn suddenly burst open. Serafina jumped in surprise. Her father stood in the doorway, surrounded by several grim-faced guards. Lord Gideon stared at Serafina with a cold, furious gaze.

Serafina momentarily felt a flicker of hope. Her father had come! Perhaps to treat her, to offer support.

"Father!" Serafina cried, trying to stand, but the pain in her body made her stumble.

However, Lord Gideon showed not an ounce of sympathy. He stepped forward, his face hardening.

SLAP!

A resounding slap landed on Serafina's cheek, making her head snap to the side, a stinging pain spreading across her face. She stared at her father, her eyes filled with disbelief and heartache.

"What are you doing, Father?!" Serafina lashed out, her hand clutching her burning cheek.

"What am I doing?!" Lord Gideon Steele roared, his voice filled with fury. "I should be asking you! What have you done, Serafina?! You've disgraced the family name! You've shamed the Fire Lion clan!"

"I was just trying to avenge Don!" Serafina defended herself, her voice rising slightly.

"Avenging?!" Lord Gideon scoffed. "The Fire Lion clan's vengeance cannot be paid by a woman of your limited power! You are reckless, weak, and emotional! You are nothing but a burden! Step aside rather than causing me trouble!"

Her father's words cut deeper than any physical blow. Serafina felt shattered.

"I won't give up, Father!" Serafina insisted, trying to stand tall despite her trembling body. "Even if I'm underestimated, I won't surrender! The proof is, last night I managed to wound that War God!"

Lord Gideon snorted, glancing at Nicholas's bandaged arm from Serafina's description. "Wound? That scratch is nothing compared to the injuries on your body right now. You're battered and bruised, coughing up blood, and almost dead. What does a small scratch on his arm even mean?"

Shame washed over Serafina. Her father was right, Nicholas's injury was minor. But still, she had succeeded. It wasn't nothing.

"No!" Serafina countered. "I won't give up! I will avenge Don! I will prove that I am strong too!"

Lord Gideon Steele stared at her for a long time, his eyes conveying deep disappointment. "I don't have time for your childish drama. I will confront Nicholas Krause directly. I will prepare for battle. This is no longer a personal matter; it's about the honor of the Fire Lion clan."

Serafina was shocked. Her father was going to intervene personally. That meant a real fight, far bigger than she could have imagined.

Lord Gideon looked at his two guards. "Seize her. Take her to a secluded spot in the mountains. Lock her up until she learns how to discard emotion and think strategically."

"No!" Serafina screamed. "Father! You can't do this to me!"

The two guards advanced, trying to grab Serafina. However, despite her severe injuries, Serafina's survival instincts and rage exploded. She leaped sideways, dodging the first guard's grasp. She elbowed the second guard in the stomach, then deftly snatched a flower vase from the table, throwing it against the wall, sending glass shards scattering.

"Get out of my way!" Serafina snarled. She wouldn't let herself be locked up like that. She had a debt of vengeance to pay.

She launched a small attack, more as a distraction than with intent to injure, just to create an opening. In a blink of an eye, she managed to slip out the inn's door and escape. The guards rushed after her, but Serafina was a slippery prey.

Lord Gideon stood transfixed in the now-chaotic inn. His face was beet red with anger. His daughter had defied him. His weak daughter had managed to escape his guards.

"Damn it!" Lord Gideon Steele roared, slamming his fist onto the wooden table until it rattled. "Find her! Capture her! Dead or alive!"