The Crippled God of War Rises

Location: The Grand Banquet Hall of the Vance Family Villa.

"Trash! Get out of the way! You’re blocking the air!"

A sharp voice cut through the lively atmosphere of the birthday banquet.

Drake sat in a rusty wheelchair in the corner, his expression indifferent. He wore a cheap, washed-out grey t-shirt that looked like a rag compared to the tuxedos and evening gowns around him.

The man shouting at him was Charles Vance, the eldest grandson of the Vance family. Charles looked down at Drake with eyes full of disgust, like he was looking at a pile of dog poop on the road.

"Grandmother is celebrating her 80th birthday today," Charles sneered, raising his voice so everyone could hear. "Everyone brought gifts worth hundreds of thousands. The Mayor sent a Jade Buddha. The CEO of Star Corp sent a gold watch. And what did you bring? Did you bring your wheelchair to beg for food?"

The guests erupted in laughter.

"He really is the shame of the Vance family." "I don't know why Elena hasn't divorced him yet." "Three years ago, he was picked up from the streets like a stray dog. He eats their food and drinks their water, but he can't even stand up!"

Drake ignored the insults. His face was as calm as an ancient well.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled cardboard box. It looked like something picked out of a dumpster.

He wheeled himself forward slowly. The wheels of his chair squeaked, the only sound in the silent room.

"Grandmother," Drake said, his voice low and raspy. "This is my gift. A Life Extending Pill."

"Pffft!"

Charles burst out laughing, holding his stomach. "A Life Extending Pill? Did you buy this from a street vendor for five dollars? You want to poison Grandmother with your filth?"

Without waiting, Charles stepped forward and slapped the box out of Drake’s hand.

Smack!

The box hit the floor. A small, black, uneven pill rolled out. It looked like a ball of mud.

Charles lifted his polished leather shoe and stomped on it. He ground his heel into the floor, crushing the pill into dust.

"Oops," Charles smirked, showing no regret. "I just saved Grandmother’s life. Someone sweep this garbage away."

Drake looked at the black powder on the floor. His eyes narrowed slightly.

‘Ignorant ants,’ he thought. ‘That pill was refined using the blood of the Nine-Headed Dragon Beast. The Emperor of the North offered me three cities for it, and I refused. And you just used it to polish your shoe.’

He didn't explain. Dragons do not explain themselves to insects.

At the main table, an old woman in a red silk dress frowned. This was Grandmother Vance. She didn't even look at Drake. To her, this grandson-in-law was just a stain on her reputation.

"Enough," Grandmother Vance said coldly. "Drake, go to the kitchen and eat with the servants. Don't show your face here again."

Just then, the heavy oak doors of the banquet hall burst open.

Bang!

A young man in a white suit walked in, followed by four burly bodyguards in sunglasses. He walked with a swagger that screamed arrogance.

"It’s Young Master Silva!" " The heir of the Silva Group! They control half the city’s shipping!"

Young Master Silva ignored the crowd and walked straight to the main table. He held a red velvet box in his hand. inside was a diamond necklace that blinded everyone’s eyes.

"Grandmother Vance," Silva smiled, but his eyes were predatory. "Happy Birthday. I brought a small gift worth two million dollars."

The crowd gasped. Two million!

"However," Silva continued, turning his head to look at a beautiful woman sitting silently at the side table. "I have one condition. I want Elena to divorce this cripple today and marry me tomorrow."

The beautiful woman was Elena, Drake’s wife. She had cold, stunning features, but her eyes were tired.

She stood up, her face pale. "Young Master Silva, I am already married."

"Married to who? This piece of trash?" Silva pointed a finger at Drake. "He is a cripple. He can't give you money. He can't give you status. He probably can’t even satisfy you in bed!"

The guests snickered.

Grandmother Vance’s eyes lit up when she saw the diamond necklace. She slammed her hand on the table.

"Elena! Don't be ungrateful! Young Master Silva is a dragon among men. Sign the divorce papers immediately!"

"Grandma!" Elena bit her lip until it bled. Even though she didn't love Drake, he was still her husband legally. She couldn't just throw him away like this.

Drake sat there, watching the scene play out. He adjusted his watch.

Bzzzt.

His cheap phone vibrated in his pocket. He picked it up.

"Speak," Drake whispered.

A voice came through the phone, shaking with excitement and terror. It was the Blood General, a man who had slaughtered thousands on the battlefield.

"Marshal! The Ten Black Legions have landed. One hundred thousand soldiers are stationed five miles outside the city. The fighter jets are fueling up. We are waiting for your order to level the city!"

Drake’s expression remained flat. "Not yet. Wait for my signal."

He hung up the phone.

"Hey! Are you listening to me, trash?" Young Master Silva walked over to Drake. He loomed over the wheelchair, his face twisted in a mocking grin. "I’m talking to you. Crawl out of here and sign the papers. If you do it now, I’ll give you ten thousand dollars. It’s more money than you’ll see in ten lifetimes."

Drake slowly lifted his head. His eyes were dark, like a bottomless abyss.

"You are too noisy," Drake said softly.

The room went dead silent. Everyone looked at Drake like he was crazy. Did the cripple just talk back to Young Master Silva?

Silva’s face turned red. "You dare talk to me? You court death!"

Silva raised his leg. He aimed a vicious kick straight at Drake’s face. He wanted to break the cripple's nose in front of everyone.

"Drake, watch out!" Elena screamed involuntarily.

The kick came fast. But just as the shoe was one inch from Drake’s nose...

Whoosh.

Drake’s hand moved. It was a blur that no one saw clearly.

He caught Silva’s ankle in mid-air. His grip was like an iron clamp.

Silva froze. He tried to pull his leg back, but it wouldn't budge. It felt like his leg was stuck in a mountain.

"Let go! Let go of me!" Silva panicked.

Drake looked at him coldly. A terrifying aura exploded from his body, filling the entire hall. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees instantly.

"You want to break my face?" Drake asked. His voice wasn't loud, but it sounded like thunder in everyone's ears.

"I... my dad is the CEO of..." Silva stammered, sweat pouring down his forehead.

"Even if your dad was the King of Heaven, he couldn't save you today."

Drake’s hand tightened.

CRACK!

The sound of bone snapping was crisp and loud.

"ARGHHHHH!"

Silva screamed like a pig being slaughtered. His leg was bent at a horrifying ninety-degree angle.

Drake casually tossed him aside like a bag of trash. Silva crashed into a table of champagne towers, glass shattering everywhere.

Drake dusted off his hands. He looked around the terrified room, his gaze landing on the trembling Charles and the pale Grandmother.

"Who else wants me to divorce?"