Rise of the Super War God

Chapter 2: Crimson Madness: The War God Awakens

The corridor stretched before Kael Ardyn in an unnatural silence. Too quiet. So quiet it pressed against his ears, made each footstep boom like a drum in a tomb. His uniform clung to him, damp with sweat, streaked faintly with blood. Four students lay scattered along the floor, motionless. Wide eyes frozen in shock, breaths caught somewhere between disbelief and fear. Crimson coated Kael’s hands—wet, undeniable—a chilling reminder of what had happened.

Time seemed to slow. Heavy. Sticky. Kael moved with precision, every motion mechanical, almost too perfect. Fingers flexed, palms gripped. Each step, each shift, deliberate, fluid, detached. A faint splintering sound punctuated the silence, then nothing. The calm before a storm, he had only just begun to awaken to.

A voice broke through—not from around him, but inside his head. Cold, mechanical, emotionless.

“Activate scanning device. Nearby danger level: zero. Deep fusion may proceed.”

Kael froze. Heart hammering against ribs like a drum. Every pulse reverberated through the hallway.

“Fusion successful.”

Control snapped back. Slicing through the fog of alcohol and adrenaline. He looked down at the four students again. Hands streaked in dark crimson, dried and wet, a chaotic canvas. The Crimsonheart Gem on his left finger pulsed faintly, alive almost, glowing like a heartbeat synced with his own.

“This… can’t be real,” he whispered, pinching himself sharply. Pain shot through his ribs. The gem’s pull was magnetic, irresistible.

“There’s… something in this ring,” he muttered, dread crawling through him. He tugged, willed it free—it wouldn’t budge. Panic coiled in his chest. Logic slipped away. Reality twisted. One thought remained: he couldn’t leave the bodies exposed. Only time could buy him any advantage.

Dragging the first body behind a tree, Kael moved with unnatural precision, trance-like, detached. Night air bit his skin, cold against the fever in his mind. He worked quickly, covering, repositioning, trying to erase any trace of what had happened. Wiping his hands on his uniform did nothing. The stains clung like shadows. Nothing could be truly erased.

Breath burned, mind racing, a strange compulsion crawling through him: remove. Destroy. Leave no trace. Not fully his own, yet instinctual. He stumbled to the edge of the academy grounds and into the convenience store, coins clinking in shaking hands.

“Four bottles… strongest you’ve got,” he slurred.

The clerk raised an eyebrow, said nothing. Kael left with four heavy bottles, awkward in his grip. His gaze flicked to a small tool rack—three tools slid under his arm. At the fuel section, he muttered, “One canister… for the fire.” The clerk laughed, thinking it a joke. Kael barely noticed.

The climb up the back mountain was treacherous. Steps wobbled, breaths shallow, lungs burning. Darkness clung to the trees like smoke. At the top, Kael’s hands shook. Prepared. The scene shifted in his mind. Tense. Psychological. Not gruesome. Each action deliberate, ritualistic, restrained. Alcohol steadied him, but tension never left. Hours blurred. Dawn’s pale light mingled with faint chemical and metallic scents.

Then—a sound. Sharp. Unexpected.

Elara Myrin. Jogging into the clearing, dark tracksuit blending into morning light. Oblivious at first, then her eyes widened as she took in the scene. Survival instincts kicking in. Hand hovering near a hidden distress signal, ready to call for help, but cautious. She was calculating, measuring everything.

Kael’s lips curved into a crooked smile. Exhaustion, delirium, something darker, all mixed together.

“I’m Kael Ardyn,” he slurred, swaying slightly. “Told you yesterday…” Eyes burning with intensity far beyond any alcohol. Every motion is deliberate. Unnervingly precise.

“Stay away! Don’t come closer! Why… why did you do this?” Her voice trembled. Fingers hovered near the signal, lifeline ready at any second.

Kael crouched, inspecting the aftermath like a puzzle. “Elara… they laughed at me. Mocked me. Tried to hurt me. Didn’t you know?” His voice softened, gentle but stripped of warmth.

A shiver ran down her spine. Elite, combat-trained, simulations pushing her limits—none of it prepared her for this. Kael Ardyn was chaos in human form.

“You wanted a hero,” he continued, voice rising, embers glowing in his eyes. “I am stronger than anyone here. Power you can’t imagine. So… Elara… will you believe in me now?”

Her stomach churned at his wild laughter. She pressed against a tree, breathing shallow. Just a little longer, she told herself.

“I’ve liked you… for two years,” Kael’s voice softened, almost mournful. “Seeing you every day… gave me hope. I dreamed of a grove. A quiet moment where we could… be together.”

Forest smelled of damp earth, alcohol, and fear. Kael’s movements are slow, deliberate. Dangerous, unstable, obsessive—but nothing sexual. Tension was psychological, alive with menace rather than assault.

Suddenly, a shout ripped through the air. “Stop! Don’t move!” Five guards burst from the trees, weapons raised, scanning. Reality slammed back into the chaos.

Kael froze. Blood. Disorder. One terrified girl before him. Surreal. Terrifying.

“Cadet! Release Miss Elara immediately!” barked a portly instructor. “Her parents are officers in the Starborne Armada. Stand down!”

Kael’s knees buckled. Tranquilizer darts hit. He sagged against Elara, relief and fear twisting her body and mind.

“Medical! Secure the area!” the instructor commanded.

The grove fell into tense silence. One wrong move could end everything. Elara pressed against the tree roots, shivering, absorbing the violent shift of events.

The Crimsonheart Gem pulsed faintly on Kael’s finger, synchronized with his chaotic heartbeat. A silent promise. Nothing would ever be the same.

And then, from deep inside, a voice echoed. Cold. Mechanical.

“War God integration: five percent complete.”