Return of The Supreme General

008. Hell Should Break Loose

Julian unleashed barrage of threats, his voice dripping with overconfidence, but despite his outburst, Asher stood still, his expression calm and unreadable.

His words were laced with venom, detailing all the ways he claimed he could destroy Asher's life and reputation.

But Asher didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. His calm and composure only fueled Julian’s arrogance as he leaned closer, his voice growing louder and more aggressive.

When Julian finally paused, expecting some sign of fear or hesitation, Asher simply let out a dry, mocking chuckle. His voice was low and steady, each word laced with disdain.

“Do your worst,” Asher said, meeting Julian’s glare with unwavering confidence. “I’m waiting.”

The lack of fear on Asher’s face seemed to irritate Julian, who let out a mocking chuckle, his confidence only growing.

“You think I’m bluffing?” Julian sneered, puffing out his chest. “Do you even know who you’re dealing with? I am Julian Quinn, son of Peter Quinn, Ambrose Steele’s closest ally.”

He paused, letting the name hang in the air like a heavy weight.

“Ambrose Steele,” he repeated, his voice laced with pride.

“The Left Chancellor of Drakmont. The man whose name alone makes grown men tremble. He’s second only to the ruler himself. Do you really think you can stand against that kind of power?”

The room seemed to tense at the mention of Steele’s name. He was a brutal man, known for his ruthless connections and iron grip on power. Just hearing it would make most people hesitate.

But not Asher.

Instead of fear, a faint smile tugged at Asher’s lips, a smile that didn’t reach his cold, calculating eyes. It was the kind of smile that sent a chill down your spine.

Julian’s smirk faltered and his anger hit its peak, boiling over as he struggled to comprehend how his threats had no effect on Asher. It was the second time he’d tried to intimidate him, and yet, the man didn’t even blink. This only made his blood boil hotter.

"You think you’re untouchable, don’t you?" he shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Asher. "I’ve dealt with men far more powerful than you, and I brought them to their knees! You’re nothing—just a fraud playing dress-up!"

He paced angrily, his voice rising with each step. "You think standing there all quiet makes you strong? Let me tell you, I could destroy you with a single call. You don’t know who you’re messing with!"

Julian’s sneer deepened as he continued, his tone dripping with arrogance. “My father, Peter Quinn, could crush you without lifting a finger. And Ambrose Steele? He’ll erase you from existence. No one will even remember your name.”

He stepped even closer, his breath hot against Asher’s face.

“You think your army makes you untouchable? My connections reach further than your wildest dreams. Steele will make sure you’re buried so deep, you’ll never see the light of day again.”

His voice lowered to a sinister whisper, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.

“I’ll have you locked away in the darkest dungeons—places even nightmares fear to go. You’ll be forgotten, Asher. Nothing but a shadow of a man begging for death.”

He paused, letting the weight of his threat settle, before his tone turned colder, more calculating.

“And that’s if I’m feeling generous. If I’m not? I’ll make sure you suffer in ways you can’t even imagine. You’ll regret the day you ever dared to challenge me.”

Witnessing Julian's unrelenting audacity, Juliet found her own confidence swelling. she smirked and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as she turned her venom.

Her eyes flicked to Asher, filled with nothing but scorn.

“What’s the matter, Asher?” she said, her voice sharp and mocking. “Got nothing to say? Did you really think you had a chance against us? How pathetic.”

Juliet crossed her arms and tilted her head, a sly grin spreading across her face. She looked untouchable, her confidence fueled by Julian’s threats.

For a moment, it was like she forgot everything she’d done—the lies, the way she hurt Asher’s parents, all the damage she caused. None of it mattered to her anymore. She stood there, acting untouchable, daring him to make a move.

But Asher didn’t waste a single word on her. He just stared at her, cold and unbothered, before his gaze flicked to Julian, he chuckled and mocked.

“Your father? The so-called Peter Quinn?” he said, his tone dripping with disdain.

“A man who thinks he’s important because he barks from behind closed doors? He’s irrelevant to me.”

Julian’s face reddened, his arrogance faltered for a moment, but Asher wasn’t done. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer.

“And you?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “If your father’s irrelevant, you’re less than nothing, a spoiled brat pretending to matter. A mere shadow trying to stand in the sun.”

He straightened, adjusting his coat as though the conversation was beneath him.

“I roll with people at the top, people who could make your father’s so-called power crumble with a single word. But I’ll still manage to deal with him myself. Because I’d rather handle that farce of a man than kneel to the likes of you.”

Asher’s gaze grew colder, his voice laced with quiet menace.

“Now go ahead, let’s see how far your threats will take you. I’m waiting.”

With a single commanding glance from Asher, Morgana sprang into action, her movements was like a predator closing in on its prey. The room crackled with tension as she aimed to pin Julian down, her precision was sharp and deadly.

But before she could make contact, the dungeon door burst open with a resounding crash, the sound reverberating through the stone walls.

All eyes snapped to the figure in the doorway, a soldier, breathing heavily, his face was pale as if he had seen a ghost. His wide eyes darted to Asher with panic evident in his trembling voice.

“General!” he gasped, his words tumbling out in a rush.

“Peter Quinn is outside the mansion. He’s demanding to see his son immediately.”

The soldier hesitated, his next words weighed with dread.

“He says… if you don’t, all hell will break loose.”