RISE OF THE ALMIGHTY WARLORD GRANDMASTER
RISE OF THE ALMIGHTY WARLORD GRANDMASTER
Author: Ayo _Writes
Chapter 1
Author: Ayo _Writes
last update2025-01-21 16:32:20

The lighting in the expansive study seemed to grow dimmer as Sylvester Wright wheeled himself in. As his sharp eyes took in the environment, he caught sight of his wife, Emily, hunched on a couch, her eyes empty and distant. She stared into space, a small crease on her forehead.

For the past few days, she seemed to zone out more, becoming a shadow of herself. The smoke from the teacup in her hands grew faint.

He let out a sigh, wheeling himself in her direction. She wasn’t aware of his presence; or so he thought. 

“Disappearing again?” Her sharp words cut into the silence faster than he could take his next breath. She turned to him, a feigned smile on her face. “For what? Six days? A week? Forever this time?”

Clearing his throat for a moment, Sylvester thought of what to tell her. He could tell that she was getting to her breaking point. Could he blame her though? She had been patient enough. 

“I’ll be back soon, Emily,” he assured, his voice calm. “And I’ll explain everything to you.”

Emily shook her head at him, tears threatening to blur her vision, “Explain what? All you have ever been to me is a burden.” She yelled, throwing the teacup in his direction.

She burned with fury as it all came rushing back to her. She was at the edge of her breakthrough when matriarch Anne had come with the suggestion of her getting married. In her words, Emily was such a successful young woman but she would have more respect, and even stand the chance of inheriting the family’s legacy if she was a married woman. 

If only she had discerned that her grandmother’s suggestion was not out of concern but out of her cruel heart.

Emily recalled the shock that had sunk her stomach in when she saw the man she was to get married to. A crippled no-body. She was appalled, from what she was told, the man, Sylvester was rescued from the roadside, injured and comatose.

“So, this was the best our successful business woman could do as regards picking her husband,” the matriarch, her grandmother, had announced at the family meeting in front of everyone. 

“But grandmother…” Emily had tried refuting.

She was interrupted by a slender, wrinkled finger raised in opposition to her. “Quiet!” Grandmother ordered. “You have brought shame to this family by getting married to this man. I’ve always known you were incapable of handling this family’s legacy but this is just the height! Now I have no choice but to make your brother the heir. You will give him all your shares at once, young woman!” 

And just like that, her career had taken a dive south. All her partners, everything she worked for had disappeared like they never existed and her brother had become an overnight success. All because she had gotten married to a cripple. 

Emily had never held Sylvester responsible for anything anyway. She had always tolerated him and managed to live in peace with him, until she took notice of his frequent disappearance every month for several days, during which he was always completely unreachable and untraceable. She could use his riddance however if she didn’t notice that along with him went tens of thousands of dollars unexplainably. 

Three years had gone by with this monthly incurrence and Emily was not having it anymore. She might have been foolish to have married him without her knowledge, but she would not keep quiet and watch him ruin her finances. She wanted out!

A groan escaped Sylvester’s lips as the teacup crashed against his legs and broke. He stared at Emily in disbelief, yet with a sense of compassion within him for her. She had the right to be angry

If only she knew who she was speaking with. If only she knew she was married to a warlord for the past three years. If only she understood the might of a single word from his lips but he was forced to hide it all away from her just to save her.

Three years ago, he had fought what was the fiercest war in all his years as a warlord. He had led his troops in a battle to defend the country against their relentless enemies. They were able to dissemble the enemies at the borders just before they successfully crossed in. They were victorious against them, but it was short-lived. 

Just as they rounded up the border and waited to depart, a second band of the enemies, who had successfully gotten in and waited in ambush had sprung up on them, taking them by surprise. They were stronger and more bloodthirsty than the first band. There was bloodshed like never before as the opposing army was targeted at killing him in particular. 

Eventually, he was able to successfully detangle himself from the soldiers who had outnumbered him. With all he had, he lunged at them, successfully taking them out but one of them had managed to deal him a fatal strike on his legs before passing out.

Exhausted by the strain and pain, he had passed out just after managing to pull himself to a roadside. 

As the cup crashed against his legs, this painful memory resurfaced, and he bit back a groan.

A glint of remorse flashed across Emily’s face for a split second. “You have to tell me exactly where you’re going, Sylvester!” She pressed, shoving the guilt she felt to the back of her mind. “I want to know where you go and what the hell you do with the money you keep taking.”

Sylvester remained silent, his breathing slowly growing labored, “Emily, you have to calm down. I can’t say anything or you’d be in danger.

Irritated, she burst out, “Answer me this instant otherwise, we are getting divorced!”

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  • Chapter 95

    Sylvester stood at the center of the war room, a faded map of the region stretched out before him, his hands gripping the edge of the table. His gaze, however, wasn’t on the map. It was faraway, sharp with dread and calculation. Around him, his trusted students and commanders gathered, watching his silence with mounting concern.He finally exhaled. “Flyn is dead.”Murmurs broke across the room like a gust of wind. Katherine's eyes widened. Verity’s jaw tightened. Geral stepped forward, brows furrowed.“You’re sure?” Geral asked.“I saw the place myself,” Sylvester replied. “He was murdered in his shop at the black market. There was no struggle. No signs of resistance. Just…poof!” He looked up, voice grave. “Surely, you don’t mean this…” Geral hummed.“I look like I’m joking?”“Where do we even begin to believe something like that?” Geral folded his arms in skepticism.“Well, listen on, would ya?” Sylvester prodded.Geral rolled his eyes subtly.“It was Edrag. And he didn’t just kill

  • Chapter 94

    The sun hadn’t yet kissed the horizon when Sylvester pulled on his cloak, the thick black fabric brushing against his ankles like a shadow trailing his steps. The hood draped low over his eyes, just enough to distort his face. His steps were deliberate, the weight of his dagger hidden beneath his coat adding a subtle rhythm to his gait. But he wasn’t going in for a fight.He was going to find the truth. He only needed a weapon because the black market was that evil.The black market lived beneath the city’s bones, tucked into catacombs and alleyways most wouldn’t dare to whisper about.He didn’t like how coming here always meant he had to be on guard.He really wished he could help the place, but the black market was different from the slums. It was the place purpose built for evil, masked with a rough enclave to make it unappealing to anyone who wasn’t desperate.Because that was who the black market served.The desperate.Stalls stretched endlessly, lined with cursed trinkets, be

  • Chapter 93

    The night was thick, masked with the heavy air of tension as the storm raged.Sylvester turned restlessly in bed, his brow slick with sweat despite the coolness of the room. Shadows.He saw shadows…dancing along the walls, flickering in rhythm with the occasional rumble of distant thunder. And then…Nothing.Pitch black. It was a void so silent and absolute it felt like time itself had stopped breathing. In that abyss, Sylvester stood alone. No echoes…no wind. Just him and the crawling chill that traced the back of his neck like a warning.Then came the thunder again. Not from the sky, but from the ground. Deep, guttural, and unnatural. It wasn’t a sound…it felt more like a growl from the belly of something ancient.He jolted upright, eyes wide, breath caught in his throat.Emily stirred beside him, reaching over groggily. “Hold on…you have the ability to dream?” she asked, voice husky. “Much less bad ones.”Sylvester nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not just a dream. This o

  • chapter 92

    Edrag watched himself devolve from a state of slight agitation to a complete mental breakdown.The news that reached him would make anyone crash out, and he was no exception. Everything he thought he was, Sylvester was reported as being better, and as far as he knew, he wasn’t even grandmaster yet.No one could recover back to grand-master after such an accident as Sylvester had.It was impossible.And yet, his spy was in front of him, trembling with news that made his ears bleed.“Say it again,” Edrag commanded.The spy’s voice trembled. “S-Sylvester’s students… they’ve recruited more men. There was a clan that had been involved in some shady deals. Another sect master had been investigating them, and he was being dealt with, and as soon as Sylvester got wind of it…he and his men went in. Not one single unintended casualty.”Edrag hated the last part of the statement.It was almost a mockery…a praise on how efficient of a job Sylvester could do.He didn’t need to know that.Edrag exh

  • Chapter 91

    Outside, the wind was quiet, as if the world had paused to acknowledge what had just transpired. The moonlight filtered in and shared its unjudging rays on the fighters, painting them a tad lighter than the frown etched on their grim faces. Genevieve ran into her father’s arms before Sylvester could even say a word. Lincoln caught her in a tight hug, his large hands cupping the back of her head as if making sure she was really there. “I thought I lost you,” Lincoln said, voice rough like gravel under boot. His eyes were red-rimmed but proud, locked on his daughter as though seeing her for the first time again. “I told you I’d be okay,” Genevieve mumbled into his shirt. “He promised.” Lincoln looked up at Sylvester, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. Gratitude. Respect. Guilt. When Genevieve finally pulled back, her smile faded into something more serious. “Dad...where did you meet a guy like that?!” she pointed to Sylvester. “He’s a master planner! I mean…the set-up…the

  • Chapter 90

    The door splintered inward with a violent kick, wood flying, and Sylvester charged through like the force he had promised to be. The two guards stationed beside Genevieve’s makeshift prison barely had time to raise their weapons before he was on them. One lunged at him with a dagger, but Sylvester ducked low, drove his elbow into the man’s ribs, and twisted sharply. Bones cracked, the sound followed by a gut wrenching scream. The other pulled a gun, but Sylvester, despite the dull ache in his side, moved faster. He grabbed a shard from the broken door and flung it like a dagger, striking the man’s hand. The weapon clattered to the floor. He pounced before the man could recover, sweeping his leg out and slamming him to the ground. A swift punch to the jaw ended the struggle. Breathing heavily, Sylvester turned to Genevieve. Her eyes widened as she took in his face, almost like she was looking at an angel. Sylvester tilted his head and flashed her a smile. “You came,” she whisper

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