I AM Kaelor Thane: The God Of War

The Fall Of The God Of War

The Fall of the God of War

Thane’s POV

The military council hall was bright, lit up with golden lights from chandeliers. Rows of leaders, governors, and rich influential men sat in sharp suits.

Everyone was already seated, and I clearly noticed they had been waiting for me for quite a while.

I walked inside slowly, my boots hitting the marble floor, sounding loud as I passed. My uniform was clean, my beard trimly cut, and my badge still heavy on my chest, heavier if possible, but right now, it felt completely useless. I had faced bombs, bullets, and ambushes without fear, but this place, with all these eyes staring at me, felt worse than any battlefield.

At the far end sat the commissioner, his glasses shining under the lights. Beside him, the governor of Kentucky leaned back in his chair, his cold eyes glaring at me.

Rich men whispered to each other, and in the center, at the highest seat, sat President Mark Wilson.

I knew what this meant. Seeing the president here meant he wanted to publicly disgrace me.

I raised my hand to salute, but I already knew it didn’t matter anymore. His glare told me everything.

The first person to speak was Viktor Karsov. He stood with a smirk, his eyes sharp and cruel.

“General Thane,” he mimicked mockingly, “or should I say ex-General Thane?” His voice dripped with disdain. “The so-called *God of War*. Look at you now, look at what you’ve become a complete loser.”

Laughter moved through the room, and the embarrassment hit me to the core.

Damien Cross followed. “It was only a matter of time before you fell. Everything has worked out for our good. You hid behind fake glory while your soldiers died in the field. Worthless being.”

I adjusted in my seat, fists tightening hard, but I kept my silence.

Then President Wilson spoke. His voice was calm but cold as ice, as usual.

He slightly sipped his favorite whiskey before continuing.

“Kaelor Thane. The military council has reached its final decision. You are stripped of your rank as Commander. From today, you no longer lead the higher-ups. Your service as General ends here.”

The words struck me like gunfire. It wasn’t the first time I had heard them from him, but this time, hearing them publicly made my chest feel heavy, like I couldn’t breathe. My years of battles, scars, and sacrifices were all taken away with one sentence.

The crowd began to murmur, mocking me as their whispers cut deeper than bullets.

“He deserves this.”

“His arrogance killed his men.”

“I heard his whole family burned because of him.”

“He’s cursed.”

“He was too weak then, and he’s still weak now.”

The voices dragged me back to the night of the fire. I could still hear the screams, see the locked doors, and feel the pain that followed. My mother’s cry. My siblings’ hands banging for help. And me, powerless.

I wanted to shout, to silence them. But my throat refused.

The commissioner pushed his glasses up. “Your recklessness has cost the army too much. You are unfit to lead.”

The governor shook his head. “The people no longer trust you. A hero is only as good as his last battle. And yours was failure.”

I scanned the room, searching for one face, just one that still believed in me. But every face was turned away. Cold. Disappointed. Mocking.

Then the commissioner smiled, and his next words crushed me deeper.

“Step forward, Commander Shawn.”

All eyes turned.

And she appeared.

Shawn. Her uniform was perfect, medals shining across her chest. She walked strong, with her boots firm, head held high. She looked like the new face of power.

The governor raised his hand. “In honor of her courage and her victory against Sahil Riyas, Shawn is promoted to Commander of the higher-ups.”

The hall exploded in applause. Rich men clapped, officers stood and cheered, some even whistled like it was a celebration.

Shawn bowed her head, accepting the honor. She didn’t glance at me, not once. I felt betrayed. So, she knew this all along? That’s why she came into my room, tempting me? If I had fallen for it, would this be how I got publicly disgraced too just like Viktor and Damien had planned?

The crowd shouted over each other:

“She is the real God of War now.”

“She did what Thane could not.”

“She deserves this more than him.”

The words stung like open wounds cutting into my flesh.

Viktor leaned close to Damien, both of them laughing with smug smiles. They had wanted this moment, planned it, and now they were enjoying my destruction.

The commissioner lifted his glass. “Tonight marks a new beginning. Under Commander Shawn, the army will rise again. The failures of the past are behind us.”

Failures of the past. They were talking about me. I was useless to them now. After everything I had done.

The crowd cheered louder.

“Coward!”

“He hides while others die.”

“His family burned because of him, and now his soldiers too.”

“A shame to the uniform.”

My body trembled, but I stood still. Pride kept me from breaking in front of them. My mind screamed to fight back, to remind them who I was. But inside, I knew the truth: I had failed. And to them, nothing else mattered.

President Wilson’s voice cut through the cheers. “Kaelor Thane, you once carried this nation’s pride. Now, you are nothing more than a reminder of failure. Be thankful we do not put you on trial.”

The governor raised his glass again. “To Commander Shawn.”

“To Commander Shawn!” the hall roared.

The cheers thundered in my ears. My head spun. The humiliation was worse than any wound. They hadn’t just taken my rank, they had taken my name, my title, my honor. Everything I built had been handed to Shawn in front of powerful men, in front of enemies, in front of the world.

I forced myself to move. I turned and walked toward the doors, each step heavier than the last. My ears rang with their laughter.

Just as I reached the doors, one last voice from the crowd shouted:

“The fire should have finished him years ago.”

The hall burst into laughter again.

My hands rolled into fists, my body filled with rage. For one second, I almost turned back to destroy the hall, to silence them all. But I didn’t. I shoved the doors open and slammed them behind me.

The slam sounded loud down the marble walls. I pressed my back to the cold stone, struggling to breathe. Rage and pain filled me. So did grief.

“The God of War is gone now,” I muttered to myself.

But in silence outside the hall, I whispered again, low and broken: “They will regret this.