THE VENGEANCE OF THE WAR GOD

Chapter 19

The air in the living room was thick enough to choke on. Every eye was pinned to the phone resting on the table. It vibrated, buzzing predator in the silence.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

No one moved. It was so silenced that no one wanted to interrupt.

Ferdinand reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he swiped to redial. He pressed the phone to his ear, his jaw tight.

"Still nothing?" Mrs. Morgan whispered, leaning in as if her proximity could force the signal through.

Ferdinand pulled the phone away, staring at the darkened screen with a look of frustration.

"The line... it just went dead. My father's phone must have run out of battery. He’s been in back-to-back meetings with the ministry all day."

"How convenient," Dustin said, his voice dripping with irony. "What a miraculous coincidence. The man who supposedly sent a private army to save Serena suddenly has a dead battery the second we need proof. It’s almost poetic."

Ferdinand’s head snapped toward him, eyes flashing. "What would you know about it, you poor village boy? My father is a man of global influence. He doesn’t have time to sit around waiting for a status report to appease a village boy who probably spends his afternoons chasing goats!"

"Exactly!" Mrs. Earnshaw chimed in, her voice with disdain. She turned to Dustin, her lip curling. "Look at you. You smell like dust and poverty. Ferdinand has nothing to prove to a creature like you."

"Ferdinand is a hero," Mrs. Morgan added, clutching her pearls. "He acted while you were likely cowering in some alleyway. He did it for Serena!"

Ferdinand straightened his blazer, his confidence returning under the women's adoration.

"I’ve done my part," he said loftily. "I don’t need your gratitude, Dustin. I did it for Serena’s safety. But honestly, it begs the question—who the hell are you to be questioning me? Why are you even still in this house?"

Dustin took a slow step forward. The atmosphere shifted, the temperature in the room seeming to drop. "Who am I?" he asked quietly. "I’m Serena’s husband. And that’s the only title that matters here."

The silence that followed was deafening. Ferdinand’s mouth actually fell open. "Husband? This... this peasant? You’re telling me this village boy is Serena’s husband?"

Mrs. Earnshaw sighed heavily, waving a dismissive hand. "It’s a long, unfortunate story, Ferdinand. One we don’t have time for. We need to get to the hospital. Our daughter needs us, not this nonsense."

The hospital corridor was surreal. Outside Serena’s private suite, five men stood like stone monoliths.

They weren’t standard hospital security; they wore tactical gear, their faces expressionless, their presence radiating a cold, professional lethality.

"Good heavens," Mrs. Morgan whispered as they brushed past the guards. "Ferdinand, your father’s connections are truly... intense."

Inside, Serena was propped up against the pillows, her face pale, her eyes fluttering open.

As her Grandma and Mrs. Morgan rushed to her side, she let out a broken sob, burying her face in her hands.

"Grandma! Mrs. Morgan!" she wailed. "It was horrible... Roland... he... my virginity is gone! Everything is ruined!"

Dustin pushed past Ferdinand, reaching the bedside in two strides.

He took Serena’s hand, his voice firm and grounding.

"Serena, look at me. Nothing happened. I arrived in time. You’re safe."

He narrowed his eyes, a dark shadow passing over his face. "And as for Mr. Roland? Let’s just say his scrotum will never function again. He won’t be hurting anyone ever again."

Serena looked up at him, her tears pausing. A fragmented memory flickered in her mind—the door bursting open, a silhouette standing in a halo of light, the sound of Roland’s scream. "I remember... I saw you..."

"Oh, please!" Mrs. Morgan snapped, shoving Dustin aside.

"Look at him, acting like he’s the protagonist of an action movie. 'I arrived in time'—give me a break! You probably followed the trail of dust left by Ferdinand’s rescuers."

Ferdinand stepped into the light, showing a gentle, heroic smile. "Serena, ignore him. The moment I heard you were in trouble, I called my father. He pulled every string in the capital to get those men to that hotel."

"That’s a lie," Dustin said, his voice flat. "Your father didn't do a damn thing."

"You jealous, pathetic little man!" Mrs. Earnshaw shrieked.

"How dare you try to steal Ferdinand's credit? You were probably hiding behind a dumpster while the real men did the work!"

The argument was reaching a fever pitch when the door swung open.

A lead doctor entered, checking a clipboard. He looked at the crowded room with a professional nod.

"You are the family? Good. You should know that Commander Calvin is on his way back to check on the patient’s progress."

The room went deathly silent.

"Commander... Calvin?" Mrs. Morgan gasped, her voice trembling. "The infamous Commander Calvin? The one who serves directly under the God of War?"

The doctor nodded. "The same. In fact, he was the one who personally brought Miss Serena here, along with a specialized medical team. He left briefly to handle the... cleanup... at the hotel, but he’s returning shortly."

Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Earnshaw exchanged looks of pure disbelief. They turned slowly toward Ferdinand, their eyes shining with praise.

"Ferdinand..." Mrs. Morgan breathed. "Your father... he knows Commander Calvin? To have a man of that stature personally escort Serena... we had no idea your family held such power!"

Ferdinand blinked. He looked confused for a fraction of a second, then his chest puffed out. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure.

"Well, yes. I told you my father was busy. I suppose he decided to call in a 'significant' favor."

Dustin let out a short, sharp laugh. "You really think this clown’s father has the God of War’s right-hand man on speed dial? Use your heads."

"Shut up, Dustin!" Mrs. Earnshaw barked. "This is exactly what we’re talking about! Look at the scale of this! Do you honestly think a village boy like you could pull a force like the Commander? The very idea is a joke!"

Mrs. Morgan stepped toward Dustin, pointing a finger at his chest.

"This alone is the final proof. Only someone with Ferdinand’s pedigree could command such a presence. You? You’re just a lucky spectator who happened to be in the room when the real power arrived. You should be kneeling in thanks to Ferdinand’s father, instead of standing there with that smug look on your face."

"Go back to your fields, Dustin," Ferdinand sneered, leaning over Serena’s bed. "The adults are talking now."