Return of The Supreme General

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Return of The Supreme General

Urbanlast updateLast Updated : 2025-04-29

By:  La MariachiUpdated just now

Language: English
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Chapters: 36 views: 8

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They thought he was dead. They thought they had won. Left for dead on the battlefield, Supreme General Asher Blackmoor of Drakmont was written off as a blind, broken man. His wife betrayed him, his parents were tormented, and his enemies celebrated his downfall. But Blackmoor doesn’t fall. He rises. Now, the man they believed defeated has returned—stronger, fiercer, and hungrier for revenge. Armed with a vengeance that burns brighter than the fires of war, he will crush anyone who dared to cross him, past or present. Because in Blackmoor’s world, no one escapes justice. They should have killed him when they had the chance. What does the General have in mind as he makes his comeback?

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    001. They Thought He Died

    “Victory to General Blackmoor!” "General Asher Blackmoor! The Butcher of the North!" The thunderous roar of soldiers echoed across the field, their voices rising in unison as they raised their weapons high into the air. Triumphant cheers of “Long live General Blackmoor!” and “For Drakmont!” rippled through the sparse field like a battle hymn, drowning out even the crackling of distant campfires. Asher Blackmoor stood tall before his army, his commanding presence unmatched. His military coat, deep crimson and black, clung to his muscular frame, the badges on his shoulders glinting in the firelight—proof of the wars he had conquered. This wasn’t just a general. This was Asher Blackmoor, the man who struck fear into the hearts of his enemies and demanded respect from his allies. Stories of his valor were whispered in both enemy camps and taverns in Drakmont. Enemies shuddered at the mention of his name. It was said that in the Battle of Velmoria, when his men had been surroun

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    001. They Thought He Died
    “Victory to General Blackmoor!” "General Asher Blackmoor! The Butcher of the North!" The thunderous roar of soldiers echoed across the field, their voices rising in unison as they raised their weapons high into the air. Triumphant cheers of “Long live General Blackmoor!” and “For Drakmont!” rippled through the sparse field like a battle hymn, drowning out even the crackling of distant campfires. Asher Blackmoor stood tall before his army, his commanding presence unmatched. His military coat, deep crimson and black, clung to his muscular frame, the badges on his shoulders glinting in the firelight—proof of the wars he had conquered. This wasn’t just a general. This was Asher Blackmoor, the man who struck fear into the hearts of his enemies and demanded respect from his allies. Stories of his valor were whispered in both enemy camps and taverns in Drakmont. Enemies shuddered at the mention of his name. It was said that in the Battle of Velmoria, when his men had been surroun
    last updateLast Updated : 2025-04-03
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    002. The Loser Of Drakmont
    Julian’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from smug amusement to stunned disbelief. “Dead?” he stammered, his voice low. "How did you know Asher was dead?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. Juliet crossed her arms, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “Of course, I’m sure. The news came weeks ago. Asher Blackmoor isn’t coming back—ever.” Julian raised an eyebrow, curiosity flashing in his eyes. Meanwhile, Juliet smirked, her face cold and unreadable. "Two years ago, Asher lost his sight in battle," she said, her tone sharp. "He was too ashamed to return home, Juliet scoffed, her lips curling into a bitter smile." She continued, "He was ashamed to return home, like the coward that he is, so he stayed in the army camp, pretending everything was fine." she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. Eleanor's face turned red with fury, her trembling hands clutching her chest. "He is no coward!" she retorted sharply, her voice rising in defense of her son. "You are the c
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    003. The General Is Here!
    The midday sun scorched over everyone's head at Drakmont’s main arena, where all of a sudden the usual noise and activity came to a stop. Passersby paused their shouting, and children froze in their tracks as all eyes turned to the shocking scene in the center. In the center of Drakmont’s main arena, there laid on the hot ground a man and woman who were being paraded and consumed by shame. “Look at that ” one man muttered in awe, nudging his companion. “That’s General Blackmoor’s parents, isn’t it?” “It can’t be!” the woman gasped, squinting her eyes. “How could anyone treat them like this? Meanwhile, Eleanor’s body shook with humiliation as a cardboard sign hung around her neck, forcing her to lower her hands that tried to shield her face. The cruel words written on the cardboard “Mother of the most useless being on earth, Asher Blackmoor” burned into her like a permanent scar. Her eyes turned to Thomas her sick husband, who laid on the hot ground. His frail body was drap
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    004. An Heavy Price To Pay
    The crowd’s murmurs fell silent as all eyes turned to the tall, formidable figure who had just stepped out of the sleek Magnus Urus. Morgana Reeves stood tall, her piercing gaze scanning the scene. Her presence alone commanded respect, and everyone trembled at her sight. Julian and Juliet froze the moment the she stepped out of the car. She carried herself with an authority that made everyone hold their breath. The way people shifted, whispering nervously, made it clear she wasn’t someone to mess with. Julian’s confidence crumbled in an instant. He stumbled back, his face turned pale as he realized whoever this woman was, she wasn’t here to play. Juliet, on the other hand, refused to back down. Her heart raced, but she quickly masked it with a smug expression. Straightening her posture, she raised her chin, determined not to look weak. Julian’s face twisted in confusion, as he whispered to Juliet, “Who the hell is she?” “Probably another fool looking for trouble,” she his
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    005. The Beginning Of Revenge
    Julian fought fiercely against the men holding him, but it was useless. They tightened their grip, dragging him to the ground. Juliet, panicking, rushed to Asher, her voice trembling. “sweetheart, please! I swear I didn’t do it! You have to believe me! I had nothing to do with this!" But Her words only fueled his anger. His eyes blazed as he looked at her and his jaw clenched. Before Juliet could beg any further, Morgana stepped forward, her expression unreadable. With a swift movement, she slapped Juliet across the face. The slap was sharp, brutal and deliberate. She knew Asher would never lay a hand on a woman, no matter rhe circumstances. But Morgana? She had no qualms doing that. Asher didn’t flinch. His voice was low but deadly. “Pray for my father’s survival, Juliet,” he said, his tone sending a chill down her spine. “If he dies, so do you.” The crowd around them was dead silent for a moment, the tension was thick enough to suffocate. Whispers began to ripple through t
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    006. In The Dungeon
    The dungeon under Blackmoor estate was cold, dark, and smelled like damp stone. Julian and Juliet sat on the hard floor, barely speaking. The walls felt like they were closing in, and every little noise ,water dripping, rats scurrying made their nerves jump. Juliet tried to act tough, sitting up straight, but her hands were shaking as she smoothed her dress for the tenth time. “We’re gonna be fine,” she muttered, but even she didn’t believe it. Julian couldn’t stop glancing around, his eyes wild. “Do you hear that? What if someone’s coming?” Juliet rolled her eyes, though her voice was softer than usual. “Don’t be an idiot. It’s just an old dungeon.” She glanced around, eyeing the iron chains hanging from the walls. “Nothing special.” Then, they heard footsteps. Both of them froze, their hearts pounding. “Do you hear that?” Julian’s voice shook, barely above a whisper. Juliet nodded, her hands gripping her dress, her nerves on fire as the footsteps got louder. The door to
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    007. The Tables Turned
    Asher stood frozen for a moment, completely stunned by their audacity. They were nothing more than ants beneath his heel, yet they still had the nerve to threaten him. The sheer arrogance was almost laughable, but instead of humor, it only fueled his rage. How dare they, after everything they’ve done, they think they could still hold any power over him? His fists clenched, his body tensed, and a deep, seething anger rose within him, he was done playing games. Juliet’s heart raced as Julian’s voice cut through the silence. She turned to him, wide-eyed. “Julian, don’t,” she whispered, panic rising in her chest. But he didn’t stop. “You don’t know who you’re messing with!” Julian yelled, stepping forward. His voice was shaking, but he puffed out his chest like he was in control. “I’ve heard the rumors! The supreme general is dead! The ruler said it himself! Asher Blackmoor—” he jabbed a finger toward Asher “you’re a fraud! Pretending to be someone you’re not!” Juliet grabbed Ju
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    008. Hell Should Break Loose
    Julian unleashed barrage of threats, his voice dripping with overconfidence, but despite his outburst, Asher stood still, his expression calm and unreadable. His words were laced with venom, detailing all the ways he claimed he could destroy Asher's life and reputation. But Asher didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. His calm and composure only fueled Julian’s arrogance as he leaned closer, his voice growing louder and more aggressive. When Julian finally paused, expecting some sign of fear or hesitation, Asher simply let out a dry, mocking chuckle. His voice was low and steady, each word laced with disdain. “Do your worst,” Asher said, meeting Julian’s glare with unwavering confidence. “I’m waiting.” The lack of fear on Asher’s face seemed to irritate Julian, who let out a mocking chuckle, his confidence only growing. “You think I’m bluffing?” Julian sneered, puffing out his chest. “Do you even know who you’re dealing with? I am Julian Quinn, son of Peter Quinn, Ambrose Steele
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    009. The Countdown
    Asher’s eyes flared with anger as he glanced at the soldier who interrupted him. Without saying a word, he spun around, fury radiating from his every step. Morgana followed right behind, dragging Julian and Juliet along, their complaints drowned out by her iron grip.As they walked into the courtyard, the tension in the air grew thick. Standing in the middle of it all was Peter Quinn—big, broad, and impossible to ignore. His silver hair gleamed in the sun, and the scar on his face only made him look more dangerous. His eyes, cold and sharp, locked onto Asher, filled with a fury that was barely contained.Behind him, his soldiers stood at attention, their faces grim, but their readiness was clear. The man was a force to be reckoned with, and everyone knew it. Peter Quinn was not someone you would want to cross.“Asher Blackmoor,” Peter Quinn's voice cut through the silence, deep and menacing. “You don’t seem to understand who you’re dealing with, Blackmoor,” he snarled, his eyes bl
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    010. Ambrose Steele Is Here!
    Peter Quinn’s smirk widened as he confidently accepted Asher's challenge. You’re finished,” he sneered, pulling out his phone with an air of confidence. His fingers moved quickly over the screen, and he held it up for everyone to see, the smugness practically radiating off him“This is Ambrose Steele, the Left Chancellor of Drakmont,” Peter announced loudly, making sure his voice carried across the courtyard. “One word from him, and whatever power you think you have, Asher, will vanish into thin air.”With a flourish, Peter pressed the call button and switched the phone to speaker mode, holding it out so everyone could hear the ringing tone. He made a point of angling the phone toward Asher, his smirk deepening as if to say, Watch how quickly I end you.But the moment the call connected, Peter’s confidence began to falter.“Peter Quinn,” Ambrose’s voice came through cold and menacing, cutting him off before he could speak. “Are you out of your mind?”Peter blinked in confusion. “Sir
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