The Understated Legend is Back

The Legend is back!

The tip of Chay Morgan' sword burst through the heart of the Targaryen Commander.

Dark blood began to splurge from his mouth and his nose, his eyes almost bulging out of its socket as he stared deadly into Chay’s cold eyes.

“The supreme commander is dead!”

The enemy soldiers immediately froze, and in no time, they began to flee, meeting their demise, while the rest threw their weapons down and fell on their knees in surrender.

Another battle won.

The battlefield belonged to Chay and his armies yet again.

In the midst of everyone celebrating yet another victory, Chay fell on his knees and completely zoned out. All he could see was a blur vision of his armies rejoicing, the surviving enemies being captured and medics attending to the injured.

This was the end of a journey for him.

Memories he made on this battlefield began to flood his mind in a split second, and his heart ached. This was his final battle as a god-of-war, and knowing this, felt like closing the final chapter of a life he had never chosen, yet had come to embrace.

This battlefield and many others had witnessed his darkest days, his greatest triumphs, and the transformation of a broken slave into the man the world now feared as the legendary god of war.

He placed his sword on the ground and took off his gloves. He let his own blood drip beside it, and slowly he took off his mask to pay his final respect.

Suddenly, there was silence.

Every general froze, their stunned expression locked on Chay.

Was this real?

Were they really seeing the face of their commander for the first time?

Every soldier stood frozen, staring at him in utter disbelief.

For almost a decade, he never took off his mask. No one had ever seen his face, they could only dream of having the honors of getting a glimpse of it at least once in their lifetime.

“He had a scar on his face all these while?”

They could tell he was paying his final respects, and for the first time since the battle ended, the cheers completely faded.

It was bittersweet watching the greatest warrior they’d ever known bid farewell to the battlefield.

“The legend himself…”

“I fear his absence will be greatly felt…”

Chay drew a long breath, his jaw tightening as he forced every emotion back into the depths of his heart. Then he rose to his feet.

It wasn't that he felt nothing. If anything, the weight of leaving this life behind threatened to overwhelm him. But there was someone he had to see.

"Let's move," he ordered his assistant and second in command, Corey.

His parents had been waiting for him for ten years.

***

Rain poured heavily over the cemetery. The sky was dark with storm clouds that wouldn’t stop weeping.

Chay Morgan stood before his parents' graves, the rain soaking his clothes as he stared wordlessly at the two headstones.

He had conquered battlefields, brought countries to their knees, and lived up to a name the world feared, but none of it could fill the void left by the two people buried before him.

Losing them felt like yesterday. Their laughter. Their voices. Their smiles.

Time had buried the years, but never the pain.

Chay was a little child when a terrible car accident claimed the lives of both of his parents. He alone managed to survive, though the crash left a scar across his face.

After their deaths, his father's best friend, John Whitney, took him into his home and raised him as one of his own.

Or so Chay had believed for many years.

His gaze lingered on the soaked headstones as memories of his final days in Kent surged back with suffocating clarity.

Before his father, Cody Morgan died, he had entrusted his entire fortune to John Whitney, with one condition: Chay would inherit everything on his twenty sixth birthday.

That day should have been the happiest day of his life.

It was his birthday. Coincidentally, it was also his daughter's naming ceremony. Double joy right?

He would finally receive the inheritance his father had left him too.

But instead…

It became the worst day of his life.

Claire Whitney, the woman he had loved with all his heart, did not only publicly divorce him, she admitted to having an affair with his best friend, Asher Jones, with zero remorse in her eyes.

Then came the blow that shattered what little remained of him.

The baby he had proudly called his daughter, wasn't his child at all. The child was Asher’s.

Even now, remembering the looks on their faces made his chest tighten.

Claire didn’t look guilty. Asher wasn’t ashamed of his actions.

And John Whitney…

John stood there as though everything had unfolded exactly as he planned.

And only later did Chay realize why; John had orchestrated every last bit of it.

In the same breath, John broke the news to him that he wouldn’t be getting a penny of his father’s fortune. “I don’t care that you turn 26 today, you’re getting nothing!” Chay still remembered his exact words.

John then used a fabricated arrest to have him chained like a criminal before secretly selling him to a slave market, where he was meant to be tortured and killed.

Anger. Hatred. Resentment. Betrayal. The emotions churned violently within Chay until breathing itself became difficult.

How could people he had called family betray him so completely?

His father's best friend. His own best friend. His wife. The family who had watched him grow from a boy into a man.

Together, they had stripped away everything he had ever loved.

"Bastards..." Chay muttered, the single word dripping with enough hatred to chill the rain around him.

“Sir…” Corey’s voice lingered in the background. He had been calling on Chay but the latter had been lost in his own thoughts.

Corey was still shaken from seeing his master's face for the very first time.

For nearly a decade, the legendary god of war had always worn a black mask. Not once had anyone under his command seen what lay beneath it.

Now they have.

Chay's features were strikingly handsome, yet there was something about his face that sent an involuntary chill down Corey's spine.

Corey jaw tightened.

Or maybe it was the countless battlefields that reflected in those dark eyes. or the suffocating aura he carried without saying a word.

The mask had hidden his face, but not the monster his enemies believed him to be. Seeing him barefaced only made that terrifying reputation feel real.

Corey lowered his head, hardly daring to breathe.

The phone in his hands had been vibrating non stop for the past few minutes. the same number had been calling again and again.

Under normal circumstances, he would never dare interrupt Chay while he was paying respects to his late parents.

But this call…

This was no ordinary call.

Corey swallowed hard. His palms had become wet with sweat as he gathered the courage for the fifth time.

“Commander…” he called cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Not now, Corey,” Chay’s answer came abruptly, making Corey’s heart skip a beat.

“Sir, the same number called again.”

“I said. Not now.” Chay affirmed without taking his eyes off the headstones.

Corey bit his lip, hesitating. He knew better than to push. But this time, he didn’t back down.

“Sir… the caller says she’s your cousin. She has called multiple…”

Chay’s head snapped around.

Before Corey could utter another word, Chay snatched the phone from his hand so quickly that it almost slipped through his fingers.

He pressed it against his ear. "Molly?"

A shaky breath answered him. Then a sob.

“Sp... Chay…” Her voice trembled violently, every syllable choked by panic. “Why... why weren't you answering? I've been calling…”

Chay's brows knitted together, unease settling heavily in his chest.

“Molly.” His voice was calm, but there was urgency beneath it. “Where are you? What's wrong?”

Another sob. “H-He found us…”

The words froze Chay where he stood. “...Who?”

“J-John” Her crying grew louder. “John Whitney found Nana and me.”

Nana was Chay’s grandma.

The air around Chay turned deathly cold. His expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles along his face twitched. “What happened?”

“Nana... Nana told me to hide upstairs…” Molly struggled to breathe between sobs. “She... she wanted to distract them while I hid…”

A loud crash echoed through the phone.

Then… A bloodcurdling scream. An old woman's scream. Molly gasped.

“They're, they're crushing her bones... one after another..." she cried. “I can hear Nana screaming…”

Chay's pupils shrank.

“Nana's been sick, Chay,” Molly continued, her voice breaking apart. “She... she won't survive this.”

“I heard them say John sent them…”

Silence.

For a brief second, Chay forgot how to breathe. “JOHN?!” The roar exploded from his chest, startling even Corey.

John Whitney, even after everything he had done, he still wasn't satisfied. He wanted to erase every trace of the Morgan bloodline and Nana was the only one left standing.

For years, she had fled from one town to another, dragging Molly with her, always looking over her shoulder, always fearing the day John Whitney's men would find them.

And now, that day had finally come.

“It's... it's too late, Chay.. Molly whispered, tears spilling into her mouth. “I I can hear them, they're coming upstairs…”

“No.” Chay's voice was frighteningly steady. “Listen to me. You stay where you are, do not make a sound. I’m coming, I’ll be there.”

Molly shook her head even though he couldn't see her. “No, no, don’t come. John Whitney, he’s too powerful. I don’t want him to kill you too, please don’t come.”

Her breathing became uneven. “Nana asked me to tell you she loves you… I do too. She also said–“

“Found her!” A man’s shout exploded through the phone and Molly screamed. Her scream was so desperate, it tore straight through Chay’s heart.

“Molly!”

His voice thundered across the cemetery. “MOLLY!!”

The line went dead. Silence.

“FUCK!!” Chay’s roar shook the cemetery. Nearby crows burst into the stormy sky.

Cracks spread beneath Chay’s feet as an overwhelming killing intent erupted from his body, crushing the rain around him.

“To Hawter.” “NOW!”

“On your command sir.”

Corey had followed Chay across countless battlefields for over five years. He had witnessed him slaughter armies, watched him stand unfazed against impossible odds.

But never,

Never had he seen the legend lose control.

***

The military jet screamed across the sky like a missile.

“Faster!” Chay barked.

The pilot pushed the engines harder. “Maximum thrust reached, sir!”

“Then push beyond it!”

The pilot’s fingers were trembling over the controls as the aircraft shuddered violently as it accelerated.

Every passing second felt like a knife twisting deeper into Chay’s chest. His fists were clenched so tightly that fresh blood began to trickle from his palms.

Not fast enough. Nothing was fast enough.

His breathing grew heavier and his eyes had become terrifyingly red.

‘Hold on Nana… please, just hold on…’