The Return of the Almighty Dragon Jackal

Chapter 8: NOW YOU DIE AS A FAILURE

The storm gave them cover. Black clouds rolled heavy above, thunder cracking like warning drums, and the forest floor turned slick under the weight of rain. Andrew’s hand clutched Cynthia’s as if letting go meant death itself. Behind them loomed the estate—a fortress of steel, blood, and betrayal. Ahead, only shadows and the unknown.

Her breath came ragged, yet she refused to slow. Andrew’s grip guided her over roots, across the uneven earth, through a darkness broken only by flashes of lightning. Every sound carried danger—the snap of a twig, the bark of a dog, the sudden slice of a searchlight stabbing the night.

“Faster,” he urged. His voice was firm, not panicked, but Cynthia heard the strain in it. She knew this was no simple escape. It was defiance carved against a world that never forgave.

Then it happened. A flare lit up the sky. Shouts echoed. Dogs barked, hungry and wild.

“They’ve seen us,” she whispered, fear cracking her voice.

Andrew didn’t answer. He scooped her off the ground when she stumbled, muscles tightening against the storm’s fury, carrying her like she weighed nothing. The forest roared with pursuit, boots hammering the wet soil, voices cursing their names. Every heartbeat was a countdown.

The river appeared like a black serpent thrashing through the trees, swollen with rain and rushing with deadly force. Cynthia’s eyes widened. “Andrew, we can’t—”

“We must,” he cut in. His voice shook, not from fear but from what he was about to do. He set her down at a river bank, fingers trembling as they brushed rain and mud from her face. “Listen to me. You follow the current. Don’t fight it. It’ll carry you far enough away.”

She shook her head wildly, clutching his wrist. “No, Andrew. Not without you.”

His eyes softened for the first time that night, but his jaw locked in steel. “Cynthia. I can’t. They’ll catch us both. This is the only way.”

Tears blurred her sight as the storm lashed harder. “Please… I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” His words were rough, almost breaking, but his hand was steady as he lowered her into the raging water. His lips brushed her ear, quiet but final. “Go. Live. For me.”

The current seized her instantly, ripping her away, her outstretched hand fading into the blackness.

Andrew turned.

And met the light.

Blinding beams pierced the dark. Guards stormed the bank, rifles raised, dogs snarling. He didn’t wait for them to strike. His fists met the first, his boot the second, a body crashing into the mud under his ferocity. For a moment he was untouchable, fury and desperation fused into every blow.

But numbers swallowed him. A strike to the ribs, a rifle butt cracking against his temple, boots driving into his chest until the world flickered. Blood mixed with rain, dripping into the soil that seemed to swallow him whole.

“Take him,” one of them barked.

Chains replaced freedom. His body, beaten and heavy, was dragged back through the jungle while thunder rolled above like cruel laughter.

The compound doors groaned open, iron against stone. They threw him inside like discarded waste, his body thudding onto the cold floor. His lip bled steadily, his breath came in jagged cuts, but he refused to close his eyes. Refused to give Edward the satisfaction of seeing him broken.

Hours passed, or perhaps only minutes. He couldn’t tell anymore. Pain blurred time into a cruel haze.

Boots echoed.

The door creaked, and Shark entered, his expression caught between arrogance and unease. Edward followed, slow and frightening, the air itself bowing to his presence. His eyes fixed on Andrew, unblinking, like a predator studying prey.

“You disappointed me,” Edward said at last, voice low and burning. “I gave you power. I lifted you from nothing. And you repay me with betrayal?”

Andrew raised his head, blood sliding down his chin. His voice cracked but carried weight. “You didn’t give me power. You caged me. But you only own my contract, not my soul.”

Edward’s gaze sharpened. “The moment you signed, you became my dog. And dogs don’t get to choose.”

Shark stepped closer, fury sparking in his eyes. “Let me end him now, boss.”

Edward’s hand shot up, silencing him without a word. His focus never left Andrew. “No. Not here. Not yet. The hollow will decide his fate.”

Chains clamped tighter. Guards hauled Andrew once again, dragging him to the armored truck waiting in the storm. Rain slapped his face as they shoved him inside. Two guards flanked him, rifles across their laps. His wrists burned raw against iron cuffs, but his mind was elsewhere. Cynthia. Had she made it through the river? Was she alive? That thought alone kept him upright.

Shark sat across from him, arms folded, voice dripping with venom. “You could’ve lived a long life if you’d stayed in your place. But no. You wanted to play the hero. For what? For a girl? For a dream that doesn’t exist in this world?”

Andrew stayed silent. His eyes, though swollen, burned with defiance.

Shark smirked. “You think love survives here? You’re nothing but another dog in chains.”

The brakes hissed. The truck halted. Doors opened, unleashing them into a clearing where the jungle pressed tight and thunder roared like judgment.

“This,” Edward said, stepping into the grass, arms open slightly, “is where I bury my failures.”

Andrew stood straighter despite the pain, chains glinting in the stormlight. His chest rose and fell, heavy but unbroken.

“You should have stayed loyal,” Edward continued. “I would’ve made you a king.”

Blood stained Andrew’s teeth as he spat into the grass. “I was never yours to crown.”

Shark snapped. With a growl, he lunged. His fist cut through the rain, but Andrew slipped aside, driving an elbow into his ribs. Shark grunted, staggering, but recovered with a knife drawn from his boot.

“You think you’re untouchable!” Shark roared, slashing.

Andrew twisted, the blade missing by inches. Pain seared his side as he countered, seizing Shark’s wrist and driving his knee into the man’s stomach until the knife clattered away. The fight was raw, brutal, each strike echoing through the storm. Andrew’s knuckles split against bone, Shark’s blood spilling across the grass.

The guards moved, but Edward’s hand froze them again. His eyes gleamed with cold amusement as the two men tore into each other.

Shark clawed at Andrew’s throat, but Andrew slammed his forehead into Shark’s nose. Blood sprayed. Shark staggered, but Andrew didn’t hesitate. He tackled him, fists raining down until Shark’s face was a red ruin. With one final strike, Shark went limp, unconscious in the mud.

Breathing ragged, Andrew rose, blood dripping from his fists.

The guards surged now, batons raised. Andrew met them head-on. He caught one strike, twisted the weapon free, and smashed it into the attacker’s forehead. Another lunged, but Andrew’s elbow cracked into his throat. One by one, they fell, until only Andrew remained standing—bruised, bleeding, but unyielding.

Silence reigned.

Then a sound broke it. A slow and deliberate gun click.

Edward stood calmly, pistol pointed, the storm painting his face in lightning. His voice was quiet but heavy. “Enough.”

Andrew turned to him, chest heaving.

“On your knees,” Edward ordered.

Andrew didn’t move.

The gun cocked. Edward’s tone sharpened. “I said, on your knees.”

Andrew lowered slowly, chains clinking as he raised his hands. His eyes, however, never lowered.

Edward stepped closer, the muzzle only inches from Andrew’s head. “Do you know what loyalty costs? It costs everything. You should’ve died the day I found you. Now you’ll die knowing you failed.”

The trigger pulled tight.

Andrew closed his eyes. Cynthia’s face flashed through his mind, her trembling hand on his chest, her plea to run. At least she was free. That was enough.

A gunshot cracked the night.

Edward staggered back, roaring. Blood burst from his forearm, his pistol spinning into the grass. Shock etched across his features.

Andrew’s eyes snapped open.

From the tree line, a figure emerged, rifle smoking. The storm framed him in silver fire, faceless yet steady.

Edward clutched his arm, fury twisting his face. Andrew’s gaze locked on the shadowed figure, heart pounding with a single thought.

The game had just changed.