The King Of War Returns

Chapter 8

Jaden twisted his body midair, bullets ripping past him where his head had been a heartbeat earlier. Then suddenly.

BOOM!

Jaden drove his fist forward into empty space.

The air collapsed.

An invisible shockwave erupted outward, slamming into the front line of mercenaries. Men were flung backward like broken dolls, bodies smashing into one another as weapons flew from their hands.

The courtyard fell silent.

The remaining mercenaries froze, fear crawling into their eyes.

“W-who the hell are you?” one of them whispered, tightening his grip on his rifle.

Jaden landed lightly, boots touching the ground without a sound. He straightened, rolling his shoulders as if warming up.

“Leave,” he said calmly. “I’m not here for you.”

They hesitated.

One man swallowed hard. “Screw that—open fire!”

They rushed him at once. Jaden smirked and then he vanished from where he stood and reappeared behind them.

Crack!

A fist crushed a man’s jaw.

Slash!

A dagger flashed, dropping another before he could scream.

“Too fast!” someone shouted in panic.

A baton swung—Jaden caught it, snapped it in half, and drove his elbow into the attacker’s ribs.

“Monster!”

Jaden spun, kicking one man into another, sending both crashing to the ground. He twisted aside as a blade came for his neck, caught the wielder’s wrist, and disarmed him in one smooth motion.

One by one, the remaining mercenaries dropped their weapons and fled, terror written all over their faces.

All except one.

Hogan remained seated.

The massive man slowly lifted his head, eyes locked on Jaden, breathing steady. The rage in his eyes was certain.

Jaden tilted his head slightly, studying him.

“Aren’t you gonna join them, fatty?” he mocked.

Hogan snorted, pushing himself up from the chair. The stone beneath his boots cracked as he stood to his full height.

“Over my dead body will I run from you,” Hogan growled. “I am Hogan—the King of Strength!”

Around them, a few mercenaries who hadn’t escaped yet lay injured on the ground. Bloodied, broken, but still conscious. When they heard Hogan’s voice, hope sparked in their eyes.

“That’s Hogan…”

“He’s finally stepping in.”

“This bastard is dead now…”

“Hogan cannot lose!”

Some of them even grinned.

Jaden smirked.

He raised a dagger and pointed it straight at Hogan’s chest.

“Step away from the entrance,” Jaden said coldly, “or die by my blades.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then—

Hogan laughed.

A deep, booming laugh filled with scorn.

This arrogant fool really thinks he can kill me?

Me?

The King of Strength?

“I’ve had enough of your arrogance,” Hogan snarled as he reached to his side and lifted his massive axe. The weapon alone looked capable of splitting a man in half, its scarred blade stained by countless kills.

The ground trembled as Hogan took a step forward.

“You won’t die quickly,” he said, gripping the axe with both hands and leveling it at Jaden. “You’ll die by my hands.”

The anticipation in the air thickened.

“You sound so confident. I’m going to use my bare hands to end you.” Jaden said as he dropped his daggers on the ground.

Everyone's jaws dropped. “Did he just challenge Hogan without a weapon?”

“He must have a death wish!” 

Hogan’s head was filled with vein, he felt like he would explode out of rage.

“I’m going to kill you!”

Inside the Thornfells Hall, the atmosphere couldn’t have been more different.

Laughter echoed beneath glittering chandeliers. Crystal glasses clinked as servants moved gracefully between guests, trays overflowing with expensive wine and exotic dishes. Music played softly in the background, drowning out anything unpleasant from the outside world.

Politicians mingled with tycoons. Crime lords smiled like respectable businessmen.

At the VIP lounge above the main hall, Derek Thornfell leaned casually against the railing, a glass of wine in hand as he looked down at the crowd below.

He smiled in satisfaction.

As the youngest child of Agatha and Lucian Thornfell, Derek had always been treated like royalty. Whatever he wanted, he got. Money, influence, women—nothing was ever denied to him. Although he longed for to be the heir, which was more challenging. His other siblings are more hungry for the fortune of the Thornfells.

Beside him stood Elder Derek, hands clasped neatly behind his back, posture straight and composed.

“How are you enjoying your party, young master?” Elder Derek asked respectfully.

“Everything seems nice,” Derek replied lazily, eyes gleaming with pride. “Did you order the guards to send back anyone who didn’t come with a gift?”

“Yes,” Elder Derek answered. “Everyone present arrived with offerings worth at least ten million.”

“That’s good,” Derek said with a greedy grin. He’d planned to exhort a lot of money and presents on his birthday, and hand over everything to his parents, as a way to buy their favor and eventually make him the heir.

Suddenly—

A loud, distant boom echoed through the estate.

The music faltered for a split second.

Derek frowned and straightened slightly.

“What’s going on outside?”

“Don’t worry about that, young master,” Elder Dusk said calmly. “It’s likely a minor disturbance. Hogan and the guards will handle it.”

His voice carried absolute confidence.

“There are over a hundred trained soldiers stationed outside,” Dusk continued. “And even if someone truly foolish dares to cause trouble—”

A faint but visible energy pulsed around his clenched fist, distorting the air.

“—I, Elder Dusk, will eliminate it immediately.”

Derek chuckled and waved a hand dismissively.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

He sank back into his seat, poured himself a glass of wine, and took a slow sip—completely at ease. Elder Dusk is not an ordinary fighter after all, he is feared across regions, so if he said he’ll handle it. He will.