The Almighty General

CHAPTER 8

"By slandering my family?”

Lance’s eyes were murderous.

“You’ll pay for that, with your life.”

The chief scoffed, unimpressed.

“Oh, please,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “All you’ll ever be is a low-life.”

A cruel smirk spread across his face.

“Astra Corp sponsored the renovation of this Memorial Hall."

 "And guess what?” He let out a mocking chuckle. “My nephew is coming to inspect it.”

His eyes gleamed with malice.

“Let’s see how stubborn you can be then.”

Malcolm sneered, stepping closer.

“When he arrives, you’re doomed.”

John’s breath hitched. His old eyes flickered with desperation.

He suddenly fell to his knees.

His voice cracked with pleading.

“Please… We have waited for Lance to return for years… We have suffered enough.” His frail hands clasped together.

His voice trembled.

“Lance just got home… I beg you, spare our family!”

John's frail hands clutched Evelyn and Rachael, pulling them down beside him.

"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Kneel. Beg him!"

Tears welled in Evelyn’s eyes as she dropped to her knees, her arms wrapped protectively around Rachael.

"Please, have mercy!" she cried.

The chief sneered, unmoved.

John turned to Nicholas, his eyes filled with desperation.

"Nicholas!" His voice trembled. "I saved your life once… You owe me! Speak for us!"

Nicholas smirked, crossing his arms.

"Is that so?" His voice dripped with mockery.

His eyes gleamed with twisted amusement.

"Then beg, old man."

John froze.

The hall fell into dead silence.

Nicholas’s grin widened. "You and your son should beg for your lives."

His next words sent a cold chill through the crowd.

"Then maybe I will consider speaking for you."

Gasps filled the room.

Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath, horrified.

Rachael sobbed, clutching John’s arm.

"Grandpa, no!" she cried.

John’s body shook violently, and his knees wobbled as he tried to stand, but—

THUD!

His body collapsed.

"John!" Evelyn’s scream pierced the air.

She grabbed him, shaking him desperately.

Rachael wailed, tears streaming down her face.

"Grandpa, wake up!"

John’s chest rose and fell—he was breathing, but he was unconscious.

"Dad!" Lance exclaimed as he rushed to his side. 

Evelyn sobbed, cradling him.

Then… something inside Lance snapped.

His head lifted slowly, his gaze locking onto Nicholas.

His voice was eerily calm.

"You’re going to die today."

Nicholas burst into laughter.

"Me, die?" He spread his arms mockingly.

"How can you blame me for this dying old man?"

His grin turned cruel.

"You should blame yourself."

His words cut like knives.

"You’re a useless, trash son—"

"—who couldn't even protect his own family."

The chief scoffed, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Your father should have raised you better," he sneered.

His cold eyes flickered to John’s unconscious body before settling back on Lance.

"He sent you to the army," he continued, voice laced with disdain. "But instead of becoming an honorable soldier—"

A smirk curled on his lips.

"—you turned out to be a joke."

Lance’s eyes burned with fury. He has had enough. 

He darted his hand furiously at the chief. “I will make you regret the day you were born.”

A chilling silence fell over the hall.

Nicholas scoffed, but a flicker of unease crossed his face.

The chief also let out a mocking chuckle.

Lance then turned to Selene, who had been by his side all this while. 

“Selene.” His voice was steady, cold. “Summon the Elite Guard.”

Selene didn’t hesitate, she was tired of seeing these fools torture the general's family.

She reached for her phone, her fingers swift as she placed the call.

“Summon the Elite Guard is to be in the district immediately,” she ordered.