Return of the God of war: Chaos awaits

Chapter 3

Seeing his men lay dead with shattered skulls, the leader scrambled back. Draven walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps, each one heavy enough to make the ground feel smaller beneath him. The air around him seemed to tighten, as though even oxygen feared his presence.

The leader tried to crawl backward, palms scraping helplessly against the dirt, but Draven was already there.

His hand shot out.

Draven seized the leader by the collar and lifted him effortlessly. The leader’s body rose into the air like a rag doll, his boots dangling uselessly above the ground. His legs kicked instinctively, swaying back and forth as panic took over, his breath coming out in sharp, broken gasps.

“Please…please let me go,” the leader sobbed, his voice cracking. Tears streamed freely down his face, cutting through the dirt and blood smeared across his skin. “I have a family… my wife.”

The word hit Draven like a blade.

“Wife.”

It echoed in his head, over and over, louder than the chaos around them. For a brief, dangerous moment, the world went silent.

The video resurfaced.

The video of Veyron violating Anna replayed in Draven's head.

Her cries.

Her helplessness.

Draven’s jaw tightened. His grip shifted from the collar to the man’s throat, fingers closing around flesh and bone with merciless precision. The leader gagged, clawing at Draven’s wrist, but it was useless. The pressure increased, slowly, deliberately, until the veins in the man’s eyes burst.

Blood seeped from his eyes.

Then…

POW!!!

The sound was violent and final. The man’s head popped open under the sheer force of Draven’s grip, blood exploding outward, splattering across Draven’s face. Warm droplets ran down his skin, but Draven didn’t flinch.

He loosened his grip.

The lifeless body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, limbs twisted unnaturally.

Draven stood there, unmoving.

His eyes burned red.

The remaining men froze for half a second, just long enough to understand what they had witnessed. Terror seized them.Their weapons fell from trembling hands as instinct took over.

They ran.

Boots pounded against the ground as they fled toward the gate, breaths ragged, screams spilling from their throats. Survival was the only thought left in their minds.

Before any of them could reach the gate….

Boom!!!

Draven stomped his foot into the ground.

The earth responded immediately.

The soil beneath the fleeing men cracked open violently, splitting apart as though the land itself had turned against them. The ground gave way, swallowing them whole as they fell into the darkness below, their screams echoing upward in sheer horror.

Draven raised his hand.

His palm opened slowly, fingers spreading with lethal calm. Then he clenched it.

The earth closed.

Dirt, stone, and rubble collapsed inward, sealing the opening as though it had never existed. Their screams were cut off instantly, buried alive beneath the weight of the world.

Silence returned.

Draven snapped his fingers, the sharp sound slicing through the stillness. His eyes blazed with unrestrained fury, the air around him vibrating with power barely contained.

Moments later, the distant rumble of engines grew louder.

A convoy approached the estate, black vehicles, armored and imposing, led by a massive truck. They rolled in with military precision, stopping directly in front of Draven.

The doors flung open in unison.

Kylen stepped out first, followed by a hundred soldiers. Boots hit the ground in perfect rhythm. Not a single one hesitated as they took in the devastation around them, the blood-stained ground, the bodies.

“You know what to do,” Draven said coldly.

“Yes, sir!” Kylen responded without delay.

Draven’s hands clenched at his sides.

“Where’s Veyron?” he thundered, his voice low but loaded with lethal intent. It carried across the estate, pressing down on every man present like a warning.

Kylen swallowed, standing at attention. “He’s at Château Noireluxe,” he said carefully. “Hosting a business party… and his birthday.”

Draven’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk.

“Good,” he said.

"That bastard has my wife, get to his residence and find my Anna.” He ordered, his voice stilling the air.

His eyes blazed blue. “I’ve got a party to attend.”

.

"Yes sir!" Kylen responded, saluting Draven.

In his mind, his thoughts grew cold. "Even a dog has more dignity than that bastard called Veyron."

★★★★

“Bullshit!”

General Shaw slammed both hands down on his desk. The impact sent the glasses rattling violently, some nearly tipping over the edge.

“A mere soldier,” he roared, his voice shaking the room, “Draven, crumbled down the North Gate building and killed a hundred soldiers?”

“Yes, sir,” the surviving soldier replied, his voice barely steady.

A clean white bandage was wrapped around his temple, and one of his feet was carefully dressed and secured in layers of gauze. Earlier, one of his fellow soldiers had brought him in on a wheelchair.

According to the doctor, he wouldn’t be able to use legs for a while.

General Shaw exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before rubbing his temples. The room felt suddenly smaller, heavier.

“What’s your name?” General Shaw asked.

“I’m Zack Austin,” the soldier responded.

General Shaw leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he studied him.

“When last were you admitted into the hospital asides from now?”

Zack blinked, caught off guard. “Three months ago, sir.”

“Exactly!” Shaw clapped his hands together sharply. “You need to see the psychiatrist,” he said flatly.

“Because there’s no possible way a mere soldier, our prisoner, a man Eryx tortured, did everything you’ve just described.”

His voice hardened. “Which means one thing. You fools are weak.”

Zayn shook his head, rolling his wheelchair forward, despite his fear. “Sir… he’s way beyond mortal. He kills with the swing of his hand.”

“Fools!” General Shaw barked. “Even Eryx, all fools!”

He stood abruptly. Zayn staggered back instinctively.

“If what you’re saying is true,” Shaw continued, eyes cold, “then Acaryn will pay for the deaths of our soldiers.”

He grabbed his phone and dialed his assistant.

“Call all regions and troops,” Shaw ordered. “Prepare for war.”

He ended the call, staring ahead with clenched fists.

“He can’t bring down an entire building like that,” Shaw muttered darkly, “and just walk away. His nation will suffer for it”

Lieutenant Zack swallowed hard, the memory clawing its way back into his mind. Draven had stood unmoved, untouched, while Commander Eryx and the rest of the soldiers fell like they were nothing.

“Sir…” he exhaled, the words catching in his throat before forcing their way out, “if we wage war against his country like this, we will lose countless soldiers. Just like the previous war.”

General Shaw’s eyes darkened.

He said nothing at first. He only stared.

Then he leaned forward slowly, his gaze locking onto Zack’s with a weight that pressed down on his chest.

Zack swallowed again, his throat suddenly dry.

“From the kind of power he wields,” Zack continued, his voice lower now, uncertain but unable to stop, “it could be… he might be the God of War Commander Eryx had been searching for all this time.”

The words had barely settled in the air.

General Shaw’s fist slammed into the desk. The sharp crack sliced through the room like a gunshot.

Zack flinched.

In the next second, Shaw surged forward, grabbing Zack by the neckline of his combat uniform and yanking him up slightly from the wheelchair.

Zack’s breath hitched. His hands instinctively gripped the armrests, knuckles tightening as his body tensed.

He shut his eyes.

“It is becoming painfully clear,” General Shaw said, his voice low but edged with mockery “that you and every soldier under that incompetent commander, Eryx are all worse than fools.”

Zack’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“A God of War?” Shaw scoffed, his grip tightening for a brief second. “A God of War would not remain silent, appear weak, neither would he sit helplessly in the custody of his enemies for almost a month.”

His voice rose, each word sharper than the last.

“A whole month!”

The room seemed to vibrate with the force of it.

Then suddenly, Shaw released him.

Zack dropped back into the wheelchair with a jolt, the impact forcing a faint, pained breath from his lips.

He lowered his head, swallowing whatever protest dared to form.

A quiet, restrained whimper slipped out of his lips.

“Get out of my office,” General Shaw said, already turning away as he adjusted his sleeves, his tone cold and final. “ before I descend on you for your commander’s incompetence.”

A month ago…

Acaryn stood as one of the top five global powerhouses in oil production and gold mining, drawing the attention of Northgate’s president, Mark Lancuff.

They studied, planned, and gathered as much intel as possible on Acaryn’s strengths and weaknesses, as well as the size and exact structure of its military force.

Mark Lancuff proposed a deal to Christopher Cassius, Acaryn’s president, demanding over seventy percent of Acaryn’s gold and oil industries in exchange for a permanent defense pact.

But Christopher rejected the offer.

Mark Lancuff was not a man to be opposed. To him, “no” was never an answer. Under his rigid, self-serving governance, Northgate rose to become one of the world’s top two most advanced nations.

Within less than an hour of Christopher’s rejection, missiles were launched at Acaryn. Over nine hundred thousand soldiers gathered at Acaryn’s borders, ready for war, outnumbering Acaryn’s entire military force.

Upon receiving the news, Christopher ordered the deployment of all male prisoners to the battlefield alongside the soldiers.

Among those prisoners was Draven Khaelis.

Three years earlier, he had been accused, arrested, and sentenced to life imprisonment for illegal drug dealings and abuse of hard substances.

The prisoners were thrown into military combat uniforms, their minds and bodies prepared to kill. To them, it was an opportunity to join the army and more… a chance to finally escape the dark walls of Acaryn’s prison cells.

The battlefield’s soil ran red as Northgate soldiers killed without hesitation. Many of Acaryn’s soldiers fell lifeless, while many others dropped wounded to the ground. The battle tilted heavily in Northgate’s favour, until…

He… Draven Khaelis, stepped in, all covered in charcoal with a sword in his hand.

With a single wave of his sword, a thousand Northgate soldiers were split in half.

With lightning speed, he moved across the battlefield, his sword cutting through the air. Within a breath, all of Northgate’s soldiers lay lifeless on the ground.

Acaryn had won the battle.

Its soldiers sang Draven’s praise, spreading his name across the entire country.

To them, he was the God of War.

Christopher sought to see him and reward him, but Draven’s identity remained unknown to all, as none could recognise him due to the charcoal rubbed all over his skin.

He vanished only minutes after the last Northgate soldier fell.

After the war, Northgate commander, Eryx, arrived at the battlefield in a stealth aircraft with his troops to retrieve the corpses of their men. Just as they were about to leave, Eryx spotted one of Acaryn’s injured soldiers hiding behind a tree.

He captured the soldier and took him back to Northgate for interrogation on the identity of the God of War. But unknown to him, the soldier he had captured was the very one he was searching for.

Draven Khaelis.