THE ALMIGHTY WAR GOD

Are You Really Magnus?

The jagged shard of glass Magnus threw embedded itself in Julius’s upper right chest.

Reflexively, Julius’s right arm flung outward—his finger yanked the trigger by accident.

The bullet hit Hendrick in the arm. Blood sprayed across his expensive shirt.

Gasps echoed through the club. Julius’s three goons froze in shock.

Hendrick cried out in pain, clutching his bleeding arm. Julius groaned through gritted teeth.

Magnus didn’t waste the moment of chaos. He dashed forward, his eyes locked on Julius.

Before Julius could react, Magnus grabbed his gun arm and twisted it hard. The pistol clattered to the floor.

With raw force, Magnus slammed Julius backward, smashing his spine against the long table in the center of the lounge area.

CRACK!!

“Ugh!”

Julius coughed blood, eyes wide as the thick wood split in half beneath him.

That was when his goons finally snapped out of it.

“Motherfucker!!” roared the bearded one, lunging in for a kick.

Magnus sidestepped it with ease. One push sent the man flying into the backrest of a couch, flipping it over onto him.

THUD!!

The other two rushed Magnus at once. He spun, delivering a vicious double roundhouse to both their faces.

SMACK! SMACK!

Both men hit the ground like sacks of bricks.

This time, Magnus made sure they stayed down.

He turned to Hendrick—just in time to catch him reaching for Julius’s pistol.

Not today.

Magnus’s foot shot out and kicked the gun away. Then, with a cold stare, he delivered a brutal kick to Hendrick’s wounded arm.

“AARGHH!!” Hendrick collapsed, howling in agony.

Everyone in the club was stunned.

The waiters. The bartender. The dancers. The guests. All frozen. No one said a word. No one dared to move.

Some had tried to record earlier, but by now, they’d all stopped.

The man standing at the center of the chaos was terrifying.

Magnus walked calmly toward Julius, stopping beside his right side.

Julius stared up at him, wheezing in pain.

Without hesitation, Magnus stepped on the bottle shard still stuck in Julius’s chest.

CRUNCH!

“ARGHHH!!”

The glass shattered into even smaller pieces, digging deeper into his flesh. Blood oozed through Julius’s shirt.

“I could kill you right here, right now,” Magnus said icily. “But that would be a mercy, and you don’t deserve it. You deserve to rot. You’ll live through hell for what you did to my sister over the past three years!”

Julius couldn’t speak. The pain was overwhelming. No one dared to help him now. Even Hendrick backed away, deciding it wasn’t worth it anymore.

Magnus crouched beside him. His glowing blue eyes locked onto Julius’s trembling hand.

He grabbed Julius’s wrist and tapped into his memories.

A rush of images flooded into Magnus’s mind. Voices. Faces. Scenes. He filtered through them with surgical precision.

And his eyes narrowed. Julius wasn’t the mastermind. He was just a pawn. The real monsters were Marco and Agnes—his parents.

Magnus took a deep breath, then grabbed Julius by the collar and yanked him close.

“Tell your parents. Tell everyone in the Barbosa family... I’m back, and I’m coming for them.”

His eyes were pure fire.

Julius trembled. He pissed himself. The smell filled the air.

“Hey! What the hell is going on in here?!”

Two security guards finally burst through the doors, stunned at the destruction.

Their eyes darted to Magnus, the only one still standing in the chaos.

Instinct kicked in—they drew their weapons and aimed straight at him.

“Put your hands up! Do it, now!” one of them barked, approaching slowly.

Magnus looked at them with faint annoyance. He could end them both with ease… but what was the point?

His gaze fell back on Julius, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“W-who the hell are you? Are you really… that trash Magnus?” he stammered.

CRACK!

“AAARGH!!”

Magnus gripped Julius’s arm and snapped it. That terrifying sound echoed the room.

“Stop right there!”

“Drop him or we shoot!”

The two guards stepped in, guns ready to fire.

Then Magnus turned to face them. His glowing blue eyes flared.

The guards froze. Their bodies locked up. Eyes wide. Breathing shallow.

It was as if gravity had doubled, tripled, pressed down on their skulls. Their vision blurred. Knees buckled.

Magnus walked between them, unbothered. He passed through, and walked out of the club.

Three seconds later, the pressure vanished. Both guards collapsed. The room fell into whispers.

“Who the hell was that guy…?”

...

Somewhere deep beneath the surface… inside a classified underground military facility.

A tall, broad-shouldered man in a uniform walked into a control room. His stern gaze swept across the monitors.

This was Hans, a high-ranking officer with one task: monitoring strange, anomalous threats.

“Sir!” a soldier at one of the consoles saluted.

Hans ignored him and walked to another operator staring at a large screen.

“What do we got?” Hans asked.

“Roughly one hour ago, a portal appeared in Mersyvale. Two entities emerged from it, sir.”

“What level?”

“Level S, sir.”

Hans’s brows furrowed. An S-Class portal meant one thing: extreme threat level.

“Where are they now?”

“That’s the issue, sir. Our radar barely picks them up. They come and go. Sometimes only one appears. Sometimes neither.”

Hans’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re saying that they can cloak their presence?”

“Most likely, yes.”

Hans clenched his jaw, then pulled a phone from his pocket.

“Keep eyes on them. Use satellite tracking. I want visual description of them.”

“Copy that.”

Hans turned, exited the room, and made a call.

“Jared. Notify the others. Emergency meeting. We have a new hunt.”

...

That night, Magnus drove back to his family’s old house, using the sports car he’d taken from the two men who tried to harm Jasmine.

As soon as he parked, he jumped out and sprinted toward the door.

He was still worried about Jasmine. Before leaving for Apple & Poison, he’d cast a deep sleep spell on her. He just hoped it had held long enough despite the distance.

Luckily, she was still asleep when he entered the room.

Not Jasmine’s room, but Jonas’s. The fact that Jonas wasn’t there… that was something he’d deal with later.

“Do you sense anything?” Magnus asked quietly, approaching her bed.

[Nothing, My Lord. No hostile energy nearby. The house is safe.]

“Good.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and gently placed a glowing palm on Jasmine cheek.

Two seconds passed. Jasmine’s eyes slowly opened.

Magnus pulled back, watching her with concern.

“How do you feel? Better?”

She stared at him, confused.

“Are you… are you really Magnus?”

“Yeah. It’s me. Your brother. You think I’m a ghost?”

He smiled, showing his teeth.

Jasmine sat up, holding her head. Two vertical lines appeared between her brows.

“It’s okay,” Magnus said. “You need time. Don’t force it.”

She looked at him again, still full of questions. Before she could speak—

Ring ring…

A phone buzzed. It came from Jasmine’s jeans on the bed, bunched under her legs.

Jasmine reached for them, pulled the phone out, checked the screen, and answered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

As the voice on the other end spoke, her face changed.

Panic. Dread. Fear.

“I’m on my way,” she said and ended the call.

She jumped out of bed, hurriedly pulling her jeans on.

“What is it? Where are you going?” Magnus asked, standing up, alarmed.

Jasmine fastened the button and looked him in the eye.

“I have to go to the hospital. Something’s happened to Mom.”

...