The cellar, once a dank and shadowed space, had become a crucible of raw magic and chilling fear. The air hung heavy with the lingering scent of burnt flesh and ozone, a silent testament to the fiery ball unleashed by Scarface, lieutenant of the Dragon Group. Everyone present, with the exception of Xander, had braced for a gruesome spectacle. They envisioned a scene of charred flesh and bone, the young man reduced to nothing more than a smouldering husk. Instead, they were met with a stillness that felt almost unnatural, a quiet defiance that spoke volumes.Xander stood amidst the wreckage, his clothes unmarred, his face serene. A soft smile played on his lips, a smile that held a hint of victory, of an inner knowledge that was unsettling in its calmness. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the ragged gasps of those who had witnessed this impossible display of immunity. Even Scarface, his face still contorted with a mixture of disbelief and rage, faltered, his eyes fixed on the
The rage that had been simmering within Xander for years finally boiled over. A raw, primal hunger for vengeance consumed him, leaving no room for reason or caution. He watched as Tobias, his face contorted with smug disdain, casually tossed Lina aside as if she were a discarded rag doll. The movement was a spark igniting the inferno within him, fueling a fury that had no bounds.“Tobias,” Xander snarled, the word heavy with unspoken threats. His body, taut with pent-up energy, launched itself forward like a guided missile, aimed directly at Tobias. The air crackled with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the thudding of his own heartbeat. He saw Tobias, his eyes widening in alarm as the inevitable collision drew near, raise his hands in a futile attempt to ward off the assault. The impact was brutal, a sickening crunch as their bodies collided with the force of a battering ram. They went down hard, the ground groaning beneath their combined weight.It was a dance of pure fe
The rage that had been simmering inside Xander since the first encounter with Scarface, the man with a face etched with cruel scars, bubbled over. The scene in the cellar replayed in his mind – the fear in Lina’s eyes, the taunts of Scarface, the taste of his own blood, the desperate fight against the Dragon Group. But then, the words of the old man, his mentor, echoed in his mind. The old man had said, 'Sometimes, forgiveness is the hardest choice, yet the strongest. It lets the poison go, not just for them, but for you too.'Xander turned to Lina, who was still trembling, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief. He knelt before her, his gaze lingering on the bruises that dotted her arms and the scratch on her cheek, his heart a knot of anger and concern. He wanted to tear Scarface limb from limb, to punish him for the pain he had inflicted on her, on him. Yet, the old man’s words resonated, a soothing balm on his burning rage.“I’ll let him live,” Xander said, his voice hoarse with th
Xander sat awkwardly on the plush armchair, its soft cushions offering little comfort. Across from him, Mr. James, a man whose face usually held a gloomy expression, sat with his shoulders slumped and a worried frown etched on his brow.'Where is Lina?' Mr. James finally asked, his voice a low rumble.'She's resting,' Xander replied, his voice tight with worry. 'The poor girl had suffered too much.'He couldn't bring himself to say more, not after the past few weeks. The events had been a whirlwind of betrayal, pain, and a chilling realization of the true depths of the Dragon Group's influence.Mr. James, as if sensing Xander's feelings, leaned back in his chair and sighed. 'It's all my fault,' he whispered, his eyes flickering to the floor. 'If I hadn't joined the Dragon Group, none of this would have happened.' He looked at Xander, his face breaking into a heart-wrenching expression of regret. 'I was so naive. I thought they were just a business group, a powerful engine of progress.
The warm morning air carried the scent of jasmine and wisteria, a sweet, heady fragrance that danced around Xander as he stood on the balcony with Lina. He held her hand, her fingers slender and cool against his palm, and his gaze swept across the bustling city below. The vibrant lights of the city throbbed like a giant, pulsing heart, a constant reminder of the life he had built, the life he was about to build with Lina.The ring, a band of polished silver etched with intricate symbols, sat comfortably on his finger. It was the ring that had shielded him from harm, the ring that had made him feel untouchable, a beacon of power that he could draw on. The ring was a constant reminder of his escape, his journey from a humble, forgotten corner of the city to the heart of its power, a rise that was as unlikely as it was exhilarating.But as he watched the twinkling lights and felt Lina's closeness, he felt a different kind of power, a warmth that spread through him like a gentle flame. It
The news of his demise spread like wildfire, a whisper of tragedy that soon turned into a public lament, his name etched in the annals of local heroes, a hero who had fallen in a quest to save a friend, a hero who had died in a blaze of glory.Back at the ballroom, Lina stood by the window, her eyes fixed on the cityscape, her face pale and drawn, her body wracked with sobs. The wedding cake, a testament to the dreams they had shared, now sat in the corner, a bittersweet reminder of a love lost, a life shattered.The sun, a cruel and mocking orb, peeked over the horizon, casting a pale, sickly light over the sprawling cemetery. It seemed to mock the sorrow etched on the faces of the mourners gathered there. The air hung heavy with grief, a tangible weight pressing down on their hearts. It was the day of Xander's burial, a day that had been so eagerly anticipated just weeks before; a day of celebration, of vows, of a lifetime together. Now, it was a day of mourning, a day of tears, a d
"Hey fool, I told you to wash the dishes. What are you still waiting for?" Xander, mother-in-law, Lady Willow flung a deadly stare at him.Richard, a young man of about twenty-four years, clothed in rags stood before his lady Willow with sweat dripping down from his face.Xander was already exhausted as as he would not be given even a single moment to flex his already tired anklesHe was a well-known figure in the city, right after he got married to the city's pearl, Helana.But it wasn't his will to get married to her either. The grandfather of the Wilson family had brought him home during one of his numerous adventures, forcing Helana to get married to him.Even though everyone was shocked, they didn't spit out a word due to the old man's deteriorating health.Refusing his wish might flare up his already high blood pressure, leading him to his early graves and that was not something that they wanted.But right after his death, it seemed to pave the way for his maltreatment and the
Xander walked aimlessly through the street, even though he had acted strong back there, his heart was still ripped apart.The skies broke his bond, a splash of water wetted his skin. He decided to pay homage to the last man that he had good memories of. The elder of the Wilson family that has brought him over to get married to his eldest daughter.He was the last man that ever treated him like the human being he was. Xander drew a really deep breath.Getting over to the grave of Mr. Patrick, he fell to the floor not caring if the floor was already dripping over with mud."Thank you for everything that you did for me." His appreciation was preceded by a deep sighIt was already dark. He didn't even have a place to call a home but he was not returning to that mini hell hole.While he continued to walk, he heard a shrill cry from ahead from afar. He drew a stop and listened closer. It was a female voice and she was deep in despair.His reflexes picked off together with his reflexes an