The God of Endless Revenge

1

Lucas woke up to the burning stench of his own blood.

Cold darkness pressed against his face, thick and suffocating. When he tried to move, sharp iron spikes tore through his arms and shoulders, locking him hard against a stone pillar.

He gritted his teeth, refusing to let out even a whimper of pain. Instinctively, he tried to gather his magic to shatter the iron, but nothing stirred in his veins.

In the middle of his chest, where his golden magic core had burned like a sun just yesterday, there was only an empty, bleeding hole.

The memory hit him like a hammer to the skull. Yesterday, the sky above Valoria had turned pitch-black as thousands of demonic beasts tore through the city walls.

To save the empire and brew the cure for his wife Celeste's deadly blight, Lucas had not hesitated for a single second. He had carved out his supreme core with his own hands to seal the breach.

He had thrown away his entire life’s cultivation just to keep her alive. He remembered collapsing into Celeste’s arms outside the gate, while his sworn brother Damien swore on his life to protect his family.

"Where am I?" Lucas growled into the dark, his voice rough and hard.

His bare feet hung inches above the filthy floor, bound in heavy iron chains. After sacrificing his core to save millions of lives, he should have awakened in the palace royal pavilion, surrounded by grand healing mages and honored by the entire realm.

Instead, he hung in a rat-infested torture dungeon, left to bleed on cold stone.

A sudden, sharp chill pierced his chest. "Where is Lily?"

Just three days ago, his fifteen-year-old sister had mysteriously lost her sight and her voice overnight. Damien had sworn it was dark demon poison from the breach, but Lucas had never fully believed it, only rushing to the front lines because the city walls were falling.

Now, cold panic gripped his heart. Without his protection, who was watching over that frail, helpless girl?

A heavy iron bolt slid back with a loud screech, echoing off the stone walls. Bright orange torchlight flooded the vault, cutting into Lucas’s swollen eyes.

Footsteps clicked against the wet stone floor, moving slowly toward the bloody pillar.

Walking into the light was his wife, Celeste. She wore a long dress of crimson silk stitched with gold thread, her dark hair pinned with jewels, glowing with radiant, blooming health.

Beside her walked Damien Blackwood, clad in polished imperial armor and wearing the golden vanguard cloak Lucas had worn into a hundred bloody battles.

Lucas frowned, his sharp eyes locking onto his sworn brother. "Damien? What is the meaning of this? Why am I chained to a pillar?"

He did not plead, nor did he sound like a broken victim. Even hanging from bloody iron spikes, his voice carried the cold, unshakable weight of an undefeated commander.

"Undo these chains right now," Lucas commanded, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Where is Lily? Is my sister safe?"

Neither of them moved to help. Celeste stopped two paces away, looking at his bloody chest with a mocking smile on her painted lips.

"Listen to the great commander bark," Celeste chuckled softly, resting her hand on her hip. "Still trying to give orders from a stone pillar."

Lucas’s eyes hardened. "Celeste? What are you talking about?"

Celeste pulled a thin silver dagger from her silk sleeve. The blade caught the torchlight, shining bright and deadly.

She stepped onto the stone pedestal before him, smiling sweetly, just like the day they stood together at the altar.

Without a single word of warning, she drove the silver dagger straight into the bleeding hole in his chest.

Lucas’s muscles locked tight. A deep snarl ripped through his clenched teeth as Celeste twisted the jagged steel against his broken ribs.

"Celeste!" Lucas roared, blood foaming at his lips as pure fury burned through his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Damien stepped forward with a cruel sneer, his heavy leather glove swinging hard through the air.

The brutal backhand slammed into Lucas’s jaw with a sickening crack, whipping his head back against the stone pillar. Lucas spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the floor.

"Still acting tough, Lucas?" Damien laughed, resting his hand casually on his sword hilt. "You really are an idiot."

Lucas turned his bloody face back toward them, his eyes blazing with deadly wrath. "I destroyed my core to save her life! I bled to cure her sickness!"

"Save my life?" Celeste laughed, pulling the bloody blade from his flesh. "You fool. I was never sick for a single second."

Lucas stared at her, his breath catching in his throat. "You were coughing blood in my arms..."

"A few drops of bitter dye were all I needed to make my face look pale," Celeste sneered, wiping the dagger on Lucas’s torn shirt. "You were so desperate to be a hero that you never even suspected your sweet wife."

Lucas’s knuckles turned white against the chains. "You faked it? The sickness... the demon breach... all of it was a lie?"

"Every single bit of it," Damien said, stepping closer with a look of pure, ugly envy. "You were an orphan from the dirt, yet Heaven gave you divine power. For five years, I had to walk in your shadow and call you my brother!"

Damien reached out and grabbed Lucas’s bloody hair, pulling his head back violently.

"I hated you every single day! The High Elders only cared about you! So Celeste and I made a plan to use your soft heart and make you destroy yourself!"

"I took three spears through my back to pull you out of the demon lines at the border, Damien," Lucas growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You threw away your honor for jealousy?"

"Honor doesn't put a crown on your head," Damien laughed, shoving Lucas's head back against the stone. "While you were passed out on the grass, I took the Abyssal Seal straight from your bloody hands and carried it to the throne room."

Lucas’s chest burned with pure fury. The Abyssal Seal was the divine stone forged from the demon general's dead heart—the absolute proof of who locked the breach and saved the realm.

"I ripped that seal from the demon's chest with my bare hands!" Lucas roared, thrashing against the chains. "You stole my victory!"

"Nobody cares," Damien whispered, tapping the golden lion crest on his chest. "The Emperor held that seal in his hands and named me the sole savior. In seven days, before all the noble houses of the realm, I will be crowned Grand Marshal."

Lucas pulled against the iron spikes, the metal ripping through his flesh as blood splattered against the stone.

"Enjoy your stolen glory, Damien," Lucas hissed through his teeth. "Because the moment I get off this pillar, I will rip your throat out with my bare hands."

Damien did not even blink, taking a step back to keep his polished boots clean. "You cannot even move your arms, cripple. You are nothing now."

Then, a sudden, cold chill struck Lucas’s chest, cutting straight through his anger.

He locked his burning eyes onto Celeste, his voice dropping into a dangerous, terrifying rasp. "Where is Lily? What did you do to my sister?"

Celeste looked back at him, her painted lips curling into a wicked smile.

"Your blind little sister?" Celeste said with a light laugh. "She is already where trash belongs."

Lucas’s vision turned completely red with pure, murderous fury.

"Celeste!" Lucas roared, the sound shaking the stone walls like thunder. "If you touched a single hair on her head, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth and tear your soul apart!"

Damien turned away, checking the golden clasps on his cuffs without another glance.

"The Imperial Elders are already arriving at the manor to toast my triumph," Damien said smoothly. "I am not going to keep them waiting for a dead man."

From the shadows of the doorway, six heavy men stepped into the flickering torchlight.

Leading them was Boss Kael, a massive, scarred brute who ruled the capital's underworld with blood and iron, followed by five thugs holding heavy cleavers.

"Boss Kael," Damien ordered as he walked toward the door. "Make sure it is slow. Break every bone, stop his heart, and dump whatever is left into the furnace."

"Consider it done, Lord Blackwood," Kael said with a low chuckle, resting his hand on his weapon. "We have been butchering troublesome men in the alleys for ten years. Nobody will ever find his bones."

Lucas looked at the ugly brute, letting out a cold, mocking scoff despite the blood dripping from his chin.

"Boss Kael?" Lucas sneered, his eyes filled with pure contempt. "Just yesterday, you dirty sewer rats hid in the gutters whenever my shadow crossed the street. You dared not look me in the eye. Now you think you have the right to stand before me?"

Kael’s ugly grin vanished, replaced by sudden, venomous anger.

"Yesterday you were the Sovereign Arch-Mage, Lucas Reed," Kael hissed, stepping forward into the puddle of blood on the floor. "Today, you are just a pig tied to a post waiting for my knife."

Celeste took Damien’s arm, laughing softly as they walked up the stone stairs together.

The heavy iron door slammed shut with a thunderous boom, locking the dark vault tight.

Boss Kael turned toward the stone pillar, slowly raising the heavy knife above Lucas's neck with cold, unyielding, murderous hatred.