HAWTHORNE STORM AND HIS EXECUTIONER

“They’ve been killed!”

“The Esturis High Command has surrendered!”

“After years of unrest, we taught them who truly runs this place!”

“Victory for Armogur!”

The roar of the surviving soldiers shook the battlefield.

“We finally won!”

“Esturis has surrendered!”

“Long live General Hawthorne!”

Cheers erupted across the ruined battlefield as Armogurian troops raised their rifles and advanced guns into the air. Tanks rolled through the smoke while fighter jets thundered overhead, as tactical vehicles rumbled through the shattered ground, marking the end of the war.

After several years of bloodshed, Armogur had finally won.

Enemy strongholds had fallen, some of their generals were dead, and their government had been severely weakened.

At the center of the celebration stood General Hawthorne Storm.

The most feared and most powerful War God in the nation.

The man who had led the nation from the brink of defeat to absolute victory.

Yet despite the deafening cheers surrounding him, something felt wrong; he remained unmoved by the celebration.

His sharp eyes swept across the burning battlefield, searching for only one person.

Rowan Blackwell

His trusted right-hand man was nowhere to be seen.

“General!”

An officer rushed toward him.

“Enemy High Command has officially surrendered. Esturis forces are laying down their weapons across all sectors.”

But Hawthorne Storm's mind wasn't there.

The surrounding officers erupted into applause.

“We did it!”

“This victory belongs to you, General Hawthorne!”

Hawthorne merely gave a faint smile and acknowledged them with a slight wave. Though victorious, his thoughts still remained elsewhere.

Esturis had plotted to invade the smaller nation of Armogur because of its rich oil and mineral resources, but they had not anticipated its military strength. That strength existed because of no one other than General Hawthorne Storm.

He had spent years training and building the army in discipline and unique combat skills beyond just ammunition and firepower.

He transformed them into a powerful military force almost overnight. Unlike before, enabling them to stand against the almighty and heavily armed nation of Esturis, which was capable of invading or conquering any neighboring nation.

This was Armogur's sixth and final victory during his reign. Even though the Supreme Commander stood above him in rank, Armogur had won the majority of these battles under his leadership.

He had transformed the once powerless nation into one of the most powerful under the regime of the same Supreme Commander.

The remaining armies were still gathered around, along with a few surrounding officers, all hailing Hawthorne with excitement.

“General Hawthorne Storm, you remain the greatest!”

“We achieved this height because of no one other than you!”

They continued hailing him as they moved toward their military vehicles. Everywhere was covered in flames and burning debris, including the remains of the opposing nation’s forces.

Hawthorne, however, was still thinking about Rowan's whereabouts despite all the celebration. Standing in the same spot, he quietly scanned the battlefield for him as the remaining soldiers and officers made their way toward their military vehicles in excitement.

Something about Rowan's sudden disappearance continued to trouble him.

After a few minutes, unable to contain his confusion any longer, he finally shouted.

“Wait!”

The military men quickly stopped and turned toward him.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the battlefield.

“Where is Rowan?” he asked coldly. “He fought alongside us. Is he dead… or was he kidnapped by the surrendered Esturis generals?”

He paused, his voice dropping lower.

“That doesn’t feel right.”

His expression hardened.

“My right-hand man shouldn't have vanished like that.”

He clenched his jaw.

“Why wasting so much time?”

Two officers stepped forward respectfully.

“General Hawthorne, truth be told, we don’t know his whereabouts. After the battle, he suddenly disappeared. It shocked us as well because he fought alongside us. We searched the entire battlefield but couldn’t find him.” Colonel Franks Richmond said respectfully.

The second officer, Colonel Michael Bryan, also spoke respectfully. “General Hawthorne, he is right. We searched every corner but didn’t find him. We even assumed he might be with you. When we arrived, we didn’t see him either, but we got carried away with the celebration of victory until you reminded us about him now.”

The remaining armies stood silently nearby, listening.

Hawthorne said calmly.

“Alright. Let me call him first.”

As he reached into his pocket to bring out his military phone, something terrible and unexpected happened.

A ballistic missile had already been launched toward the remaining armies and officers without their notice. They had believed the battle was over, unaware that something far more dangerous was coming to take their lives.

BOOM!!!

The missile struck with devastating force.

The explosion engulfed the area instantly.

The remaining armies and officers were reduced to ashes.

Hawthorne, fortunately, was not too close to the blast. The missile had been precisely targeted at the clustered troops, excluding him. It had been launched from the border of both nations by a hidden reserve Esturis strike unit that had not surrendered.

Hawthorne stood frozen, watching the destruction, refusing to move or even react.

He wondered where the missile had come from. Then he concluded it must be Esturis—no other nation made sense. They were already at war, and this must have been a final retaliatory strike after their defeat.

He scanned the stormy sky carefully, watching for any further missile activity.

He slowly knelt down and touched the ashes.

And sadly shook his head in deep pain and loss, missing the military men who had fought beside him, then quietly said.

“Rest in peace, warriors.”

“You all truly fought for this nation, including those who now lie fallen across this battlefield.”

“You will all remain in my heart for as long as I live.”

He slowly rose to his feet, his gaze still fixed on the ashes of the dead military men.

Then Rowan crossed his mind once again.

“Why haven’t I seen him? Where could he be? Let me call him as I planned before this interruption.”

Immediately, he pulled out his military phone and dialed Rowan’s number.

Before the call could connect, he heard footsteps behind him.

Slow and deliberate.

He turned and saw them.

It was Rowan—alongside several newly deployed Esturis forces and the so-called surrendered high command, all staring at him with mocking smiles and cold anger.

Hawthorne froze in place.

His expression darkened as disbelief washed over his face. Slowly, he shook his head, unable to accept what he was seeing.

“Unbelievable.”

Then he spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.

“Rowan… what the hell are you doing with them?”