The Forgotten War God Son-in-law

‎Storm clouds swirled above Westbridge City as the bus hissed to a stop near the station. The doors creaked open, and a tall man stepped out Ethan Cole.

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‎His clothes were simple just a cheap black jacket and worn sneakers but his walk had a quiet power. His expression was calm, too calm for someone who had been abandoned by the world.

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‎Three years ago, he was known as War God Arcturus, the undefeated commander of the Phantom Legion a man who could silence nations with a single order. Now, he was nothing but a despised son-in-law returning home under the rain’s cold judgment.

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‎He inhaled slowly, the damp air filling his lungs.

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‎Three years of exile.

‎Three years of silence.

‎Today… silence ends.

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‎A sleek black car pulled up sharply in front of him. Water splashed his shoes, but Ethan didn’t flinch.

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‎The window slid down, revealing Lucas Gray a smug grin smeared across his face. The cousin who once begged for Ethan’s help now looked at him like trash.

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‎“Well, well, the disgrace finally returns,” Lucas mocked. “Hurry up and get in. If you make the Kingsleys wait, they’ll hate you even more if that’s even possible.”

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‎Ethan stared at him, voice low and calm:

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‎“Drive.”

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‎Lucas’s grin twitched, offended by the lack of fear.

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‎“You think you can act tough now? Remember, you’re only here to apologize and be the family’s convenient punching bag. Don’t mess this up.”

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‎The door closed with a heavy thud as Ethan entered the back seat.

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‎Outside, thunder cracked across the sky. Inside the car, silence stretched until Ethan suddenly looked up sharply.

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‎A hawk cut through the storm clouds, wings spread wide before dipping downward once.

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‎Lucas followed his gaze, confused. “What? Scared of a bird now, loser?”

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‎But Ethan’s eyes narrowed.

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‎The Phantom Legion still watches me.

‎No… they watch the enemies watching me.

‎

‎His exile was supposed to break him.

‎Instead, it sharpened him like a blade.

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‎The car continued through the city streets until the massive Kingsley Family Villa emerged a mansion built from pride and old money. Luxury cars lined the driveway, party lights shimmering through the tall windows.

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‎It wasn’t a welcome home.

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‎It was a humiliation feast.

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‎Lucas chuckled as he parked. “Smile, Ethan. Be grateful they let you come back at all.”

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‎Ethan stepped out slowly. Every drop of rain sliding off his shoulders felt like time peeling away the weakness others thought he carried.

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‎The guards at the gate whispered loudly:

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‎“Is that the useless son-in-law?” “He’s back for more shame?” “What a joke…”

‎

‎Ethan heard it all.

‎He felt nothing.

‎

‎Mock me now.

‎Fear me later.

‎

‎

‎

‎Because tonight, the city believed a worthless man was returning…

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‎But what truly returned was a War God angry, alive, and ready.

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‎Warm light spilled from the grand hall of the Kingsley villa, where laughter and clinking glasses drowned the sound of the storm outside. The moment Ethan stepped in, all eyes shifted to him not with respect, but with mocking curiosity.

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‎Elegant guests whispered behind polished wine glasses:

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‎“Isn’t that the useless son-in-law who disappeared for years?”

‎“So he finally crawled back?”

‎“I heard he couldn’t even protect his wife!”

‎

‎A waiter deliberately bumped into him, staining his jacket with wine.

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‎“Oh… apologies,” the waiter said, not sounding sorry at all. Snickers followed.

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‎Lucas nudged Ethan’s arm. “Keep your composure. You’re here for one reason: to humble yourself.”

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‎At the center of the hall stood Mrs. Kingsley, a woman whose eyes held sharp judgment like knives. Next to her stood Ethan’s wife, Ariana Kingsley cold, distant, refusing to even look his way.

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‎Mrs. Kingsley folded her arms.

‎“So, the disgrace returns. Kneel and apologize to Ariana for ruining her reputation.”

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‎Ethan’s gaze remained steady.

‎“I have nothing to apologize for.”

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‎A hush fell. Shock. Outrage. A ripple of tension.

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‎Lucas stepped forward angrily. “You heard her! Kneel!”

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‎Slowly, Ethan turned his head, looking Lucas dead in the eyes.

‎That single look made Lucas freeze.

‎

‎Not because of who Ethan was today

‎but because of who he once commanded.

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‎A king of war.

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‎Mrs. Kingsley slammed her hand on the table.

‎“You think you’re some kind of hero? You’re just a useless orphan we pitied!”

‎

‎Ethan’s voice remained quiet, but each word was heavy:

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‎“I suggest you stop testing my patience.”

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‎Murmurs erupted.

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‎“What arrogance…”

‎“He should be thrown out…”

‎“He’s begging to be destroyed…”

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‎Just then.

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‎Ethan’s phone rang.

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‎Guests snickered.

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‎“Probably a debt collector,” someone joked.

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‎Ethan answered casually, placing the phone near his ear.

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‎A deep voice came through respectful. Terrified.

‎“Lord Arcturus… the Council requires your command. Just say the word… and Westbridge will kneel.”

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‎The hall fell silent.

‎Everyone had overheard it.

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‎Ethan looked around the room his eyes sharp as steel.

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‎“I told you…” he said quietly, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

‎“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

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‎The doors to the hall burst open.

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‎A man in full military uniform hurried inside, soaked from the rain badges glittering.

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‎He walked past every shocked guest…

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‎…and dropped to one knee before Ethan.

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‎His voice boomed like thunder:

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‎“War God!

‎Your men await your orders!”

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‎Gasps. Panic. Horror.

‎Wine glasses shattered against the floor.

‎Mrs. Kingsley stumbled back, suddenly pale. Lucas stared like he was seeing a ghost. Ariana’s eyes widened, breath caught in her throat.‎

‎Ethan finally smiled cold, undeniable.

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‎ “Let the world remember who I am.”

‎