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Chapter 44: Consolidation of Power
Time seemed to freeze. Ethan’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her body spiral down into the abyss between buildings. Magic shimmered, flickered, then vanished. But no blood. No death. Just… disappearance. He didn’t have time to process it. Zane turned toward him, the shadows wrapping tighter around his frame like armor made of nightmares. “You were always the hero,” Zane said, voice like molten steel. “The golden son. The one who inherited the legacy, the estate… the love. But you left me in the dark, Ethan. And the dark raised me.” “You think I left you behind?” Ethan shouted. “You were my brother. I would’ve died for you!” “But you didn’t,” Zane growled. “I died instead.” He raised his hand. The sky turned black. The rooftop groaned as magical conduits across the city began to warp and twist. Towers flickered like glitching lights. The supernatural core—stolen moments ago by Jasmine—flared open again in midair, somehow tethered now to Zane. He had claimed it.
Chapter 44: Consolidation of Power
The rain lashed against the high-rise windows of Hale Tower, the city of New York spread below like a conquered kingdom. Thunder cracked across the sky, as if the heavens themselves acknowledged what was about to happen.Inside the top floor boardroom, silence reigned.A long obsidian table stretched across the heart of the room, flanked by leaders from every domain of power—corporate titans, supernatural elders, heads of global syndicates, and mystic kings rarely seen outside their hidden realms.And at the head of it all sat Ethan Hale.No longer the discarded son-in-law. No longer the man they mocked.Now, he was the storm.Ethan’s eyes scanned the room—calculating, calm, and cold. He stood slowly, the room falling into hushed reverence.“Gentlemen,” he said, his voice slicing through the air, “we’re not here to compete. We’re here to conquer. Together.”A ripple of unease passed through the room.“Conquer?” scoffed Armand Velleri, CEO of Velleri Defense Group. “You speak of unity,
Chapter 43: Jasmine’s Fall from Grace
The Montclair Gala was the pinnacle of high society—a glittering affair where power brokers, aristocrats, and supernatural dignitaries converged under one opulent roof. The grand ballroom shimmered with chandeliers, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and whispered secrets.Jasmine Sinclair, once the queen of such events, now stood at the periphery, clutching a half-empty glass of vintage wine. Her designer gown, though stunning, couldn't mask the desperation in her eyes. The room's attention was no longer hers.All eyes were on Ethan Hale.He entered with an aura of command, flanked by influential figures from both the corporate world and the arcane realms. His tailored suit exuded power, and the subtle glow of the God Mark on his forearm hinted at his supernatural prowess. Conversations hushed as he passed, replaced by reverent murmurs: "God of War," "CEO Hale," "The Sovereign."Beside him was Amara Devon, heiress to the Devon Consortium. Her laughter at Ethan
Chapter 42: The Ultimate Duel
The blood-red moon cast an ominous glow over the desolate expanse of Crescent Ridge. The once-majestic Blackthorn Arena stood in ruins, its crumbling pillars and shattered stands bearing silent witness to the cataclysmic events that had transpired.Ethan Hale stood at the heart of the arena, his breath steady, his gaze unwavering. Clad in the ceremonial armor of his ancestors—a fusion of ancient mysticism and cutting-edge technology—he radiated an aura of formidable power.Opposite him, Malrik Thorne emerged from the shadows, his obsidian armor absorbing the moonlight. His eyes, glowing with malevolent energy, locked onto Ethan's.Malrik sneered, "You should've stayed hidden, Hale. Your name carries power, but you're not your father."Ethan's voice was cold, "I'm not my father. I'm worse—for you."Without warning, the ground trembled as Malrik lunged forward, his soulmetal blade slicing through the air with lethal precision. Ethan sidestepped, channeling his ki into a counterstrike th
Chapter 41: Forgiveness for the Loyal Few
The fires of war had quieted, but the smoke still clung to the trees of Crescent Ridge like ghosts that refused to leave.Ethan Hale stood atop the watchtower of the newly reclaimed Hale Fortress, his gaze sweeping over the blackened pines and silver mist below. The wind cut cold across the stone battlements, carrying whispers from the distant city where his name was now legend—or curse, depending on who you asked.The city now knew him.His enemies feared him.But none of that mattered now.He hadn’t returned for the city. He had returned for the few who walked beside him when he was nothing but a ruined name on the edge of a blade. When Jasmine’s family had scorned him. When the boardrooms turned their backs. When betrayal became his only inheritance.Tonight, that debt would be repaid.The Grand Hall of Hale Fortress was reborn. Once stripped of its glory, now it pulsed with warmth and reverence. The massive stone hearth roared with fire. Gold and crimson banners—freshly sewn with
Chapter 40: The Heir and the God of War
Blackridge — MidnightIt wasn’t raining, but the air felt heavy, charged with something darker than stormclouds. The kind of pressure that settled before bloodshed.A black SUV screeched to a halt outside the Hale Dominion tower, its bulletproof glass splattered with blood. The rear door swung open, and a man stumbled out—one of Ethan’s informants.“Sir,” he gasped, falling to his knees. “It’s begun.”Ethan Hale didn’t flinch. He stared out over the city skyline from his 88th-floor window, dressed in a tailored black suit, his eyes reflecting the city lights like silver mirrors.“Bring everyone to the war room,” he said coldly. “Now.”The War Room – 12:24 A.M.The massive digital screen hummed to life, displaying red markers spreading across Blackridge like blood veins. Mira’s fingers flew over her tablet, sweat beading her brow.“Multiple fronts: Eastside docks, financial district, and the Arcadia vaults. They’re not just attacking your holdings—they’re hitting your past.”Caleb slam
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