THE WAR GOD MADE OF STEEL

He Refuses To Break

Before Hawthorne could look at him after glancing in Master Draxson's direction, the monster had already lunged at him with all his strength, driving both of his massive hands into his stomach.

Behemoth now meant business and showed no intention of holding back this time.

The first round of the fight had merely been a warm-up and rehearsal for him.

He attacked Hawthorne with different combat techniques and deadly precision across his entire body. It almost sounded as if Hawthorne's bones were breaking under the relentless assault.

Unable to endure the pain any longer, Hawthorne screamed at the top of his lungs.

“ARGHHH!!”

The veins across Behemoth's intimidating body continued to bulge. His eyes remained blood-red, and his scarred face looked even more terrifying than before. He kept punching and striking Hawthorne without pause. Each blow was instantly followed by another.

Once again, Hawthorne could not withstand the pain and let out another agonizing scream that echoed beyond the building.

“ARGHHH!!!”

Determined to fight back, he pulled desperately against the cuffs and shouted bitterly,

“Break off, these fucking cuffs!”

He forcefully stretched the restraints, using every ounce of his strength to tear them apart, but it still seemed impossible.

Behemoth continued using Hawthorne's body like a punching bag, unleashing different combat techniques with ruthless precision, never giving him a second to recover.

The pain from the beating was unbearable. Hawthorne tried to hold on, but another scream escaped him as the monster's brutality pushed him beyond his limits.

“ARGHHHH!!!!”

Behemoth remained focused, carrying out exactly what his master had ordered. He showed no signs of fatigue or hesitation. He looked ready to beat Hawthorne for hours until death itself arrived.

This was his specialty.

Luckily for him, Hawthorne was cuffed. Otherwise, he would have witnessed who Hawthorne truly was on the battlefield—a master of combat skills and precision beyond human understanding.

Throughout the beating, Master Draxson and Rowan watched with growing satisfaction. Hawthorne finally appeared broken to them but still deeply strong.

Rowan shoved his hands into his pockets and observed the scene with a smile that nearly consumed his face. He was thrilled.

His plan and desire of many years were finally coming true before his very eyes.

He could hardly wait to use this opportunity to seize Hawthorne's military position in Armogur.

He laughed softly and thought.

“Finally. His calm face has disappeared, and now he looks broken.”

Meanwhile, Master Draxson remained seated on his mighty throne with one leg crossed over the other. He watched the scene unfold with growing excitement. His earlier fury had vanished. He shook his head, smiled venomously, tapping his fingers against the armrest.

“Armogur... wait for my return.”

The fight still ongoing.

Behemoth kept beating Hawthorne mercilessly. By now, Hawthorne's voice had given out, and his screams had faded into silence. He seemed on the verge of losing consciousness.

Blood poured from his wounds. His entire body was swollen, and every joint had been shattered and crippled by the monster.

Rowan could hardly wait for Hawthorne to collapse or breathe his last breath.

The same was true for Supreme Commander Master Draxson and the few soldiers watching nearby.

Despite his condition, Hawthorne refused to beg Behemoth to stop. He had sworn that he would never beg.

He would rather die there.

Even Rowan, Master Draxson, and the soldiers were deeply shocked by his refusal to plead. Others had always begged during such brutal punishments.

But Hawthorne was different.

His beating was far more savage and unbearable than most, yet he remained silent.

Even Behemoth was surprised.

This was the first time he had beaten someone so brutally without hearing desperate pleas for mercy. Not that he accepted begging anyway.

With great effort, Hawthorne forced out a few weak words. His voice was barely audible.

Only Behemoth heard them.

“You’re lucky enough.”

Behemoth instantly rushed at him again.

“How dare you!”

His deep voice thundered through the room.

Enraged, he attacked with even greater force. While beating Hawthorne, he tore apart his military uniform, leaving him wearing only his bloodstained boxers.

He ripped away his singlet as well.

For the first time, Behemoth felt challenged.

This man looked like a genuine threat—something he had never encountered before.

Hawthorne could no longer scream.

The pain spread through every inch of his body. He opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out.

Still, he refused to beg.

Still, he refused to submit.

Just as he seemed ready to collapse, Master Draxson remembered he had more words to say.

He raised his right hand while seated on his throne and shouted,

“Enough!”

Behemoth delivered one final brutal punch to Hawthorne's cheek with all his strength.

The impact echoed through the room.

Blood sprayed again from Hawthorne's mouth.

Only then did Behemoth stop.

Sweat poured from his body while his veins remained swollen.

He bowed respectfully.

“Perfectly delivered, Master.”

Rowan became disappointed.

He wished Master Draxson had allowed Behemoth to finish Hawthorne completely.

Master Draxson rose majestically from his throne and slowly walked toward Hawthorne, who lay weakly on the floor but still looked unbroken.

Moments later, he stood before him.

Blood stained the ground beneath Hawthorne.

Master Draxson smiled mockingly.

“You’ve been a hindrance to me over Armogur for years. This time, I will invade it successfully without any difficulty.”

He turned toward Rowan.

“Come.”

Rowan stepped forward proudly, his hands still in his pockets.

Master Draxson looked back at Hawthorne.

“The weapon you spent years creating has now been used against you.”

A cruel smile appeared on his face.

“And I’m certain you deeply regret it.”

He extended his hand toward Rowan.

The two shook hands.

Then Master Draxson pulled him into a firm embrace and tapped him twice on the back.

“You delivered the plans perfectly—you now have a place in my heart, wait patiently for the reward I promised you.”

Rowan bowed with excitement.

“Thank you, Master.”

Master Draxson turned his attention back to Hawthorne.

“I have nothing more to say because you’re irrelevant and a nobody.”

“You’re not worth the time required for a longer conversation.”

“I’ve already said everything that needed to be said.”

He stepped closer.

His voice became colder.

“But be assured that more punishments await you in prison.”

“What you received here was only the beginning.”

“So prepare yourself.”

Turning toward Behemoth, he laughed lightly.

“You performed perfectly, monster.”

Then he faced the soldiers standing nearby and pointed at Hawthorne.

“Take him to The Abyss now!”

The soldiers bowed immediately.

“Yes, Master Draxson.”

They rushed forward and dragged Hawthorne to his feet.

He wore nothing but blood-soaked boxers.

His body was broken.

His skin was covered in scars and swelling.

Yet he still looked unshaken.

Blood dripped from his forehead and mouth as he stared boldly at Master Draxson, Rowan, and Behemoth.

The soldiers began dragging him away.

Suddenly, Rowan raised his voice.

“Wait!”

The soldiers immediately stopped and turned toward him.

The room fell silent.