Rise Of The Disabled War God

CHAPTER 001

The soft creak of the wheelchair's wheels against the wooden floor snapped Agnes out of her thoughts. The kitchen, where she usually found some peace, felt smaller when he wheeled himself in. She didn’t need to look up to know it was Connor.

Before he could speak, she broke the silence with a strained voice. "So, are you leaving again?"

Her eyes met his coldly. Three years of waiting, of watching him disappear without explanation, had eroded any warmth she once felt. She knew he would hesitate, just as he always did.

His hands gripped the arms of the wheelchair, feeling terrible as he knew he was going to need to say yes to her question.

"I’ll- I’ll be back soon. I promise, this time it won’t be long..."

"Soon," she repeated mockingly after him, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. She had heard that empty promise too many times. Without thinking, she grabbed the cup on her desk and hurled it at him. The cup shattered against his legs, sending pieces scattering across the floor.

Connor flinched slightly, but his expression remained calm. That calmness, the way he always acted as if nothing bothered him, made her blood boil.

Three years. It had been three years since she surpassed her brother in her career. Instead of celebrating her success, her family saw it as a threat. Her grandmother had manipulated her into this marriage, hoping that marrying a disabled man like Connor would bring her down.

Connor had been found unconscious by the roadside, his legs shattered from a battle ambush that left him permanently disabled. He should have returned from the war as a hero, but instead, he was used in her family’s scheme.

The marriage was meant to humble her and keep her brother on top. Prominent families mocked her for it, and though she didn’t blame Connor for her grandmother’s manipulations, she couldn’t ignore what their marriage had become.

From the beginning, he was distant. Every month, without fail, he would disappear for days, unreachable. Every time he returned, more money was missing—tens of thousands gone without explanation. She had asked him about it, but he never answered. After three years, she was done pretending it didn’t bother her.

"I can’t keep doing this," she said, her voice trembling with anger she could barely contain. "You vanish, you spend God knows how much, and I’m supposed to just accept it? This isn’t a marriage. It’s a nightmare."

Connor glanced down at the broken pieces of the cup around his feet, silent for a moment too long. "I’m doing what I have to do," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As always, he couldn’t bring himself to give her the answer she had been looking for.

Her hands clenched into fists, her frustration boiling over. "That’s not an answer! You disappear for days, you come back, and it’s like nothing ever happened. Where do you go, Connor? What are you doing all that time outside this house, and why are we losing tens of thousands every month each time you leave the house? Do you even care what that’s doing to us?"

Connor’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, his fingers tightening on the wheelchair’s arms. She could feel the tension radiating from him, but still, he didn’t speak.

“Connor, is that it! You are going to ignore me now and pretend like no one is talking to you?” Agnes said with tear filled eyes, frustrated.

“Agnes, I- I am not ignoring you. It is just that....” Connor paused, as if not wanting to reveal too much to her.

"If you can’t give me a straight answer, I’m done,” Agnes said bluntly. "I want a divorce."

The words that came from her mouth caused Connor’s mouth to drop. For a brief moment, she saw something across his face—shock, maybe, or pain. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Agnes, y-you don’t mean that," he said quietly, though she could hear the doubt in his voice.

"I do. I mean every bit of it, Connor." She stepped closer, her eyes locked on his. "I’ve been patient. I’ve given you time, I’ve tried to understand, but I can’t do this anymore. I deserve to know what’s going on. If you can’t tell me, then there’s no reason for us to stay married."

"Agnes," he called softly. "You don’t understand—"

"Because you won’t tell me anything!" she shot back. "How am I supposed to understand when you keep shutting me out? You vanish for days, and I have no idea where you are, if you’re even safe. You come back, and it’s like nothing happened, but then there’s always money missing. What am I supposed to think?"

“Tell me, Connor!” she yelled with tear filled eyes.

He didn’t answer, but she could see the conflict in his eyes. He was holding something back, something he had been keeping from her for years.

"I’m serious," she continued, her tone hardening. "If you can’t be honest with me, I’m done. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life waiting around for you to come back from wherever it is you go. I want a real marriage, not whatever this is."

Connor stared at her with an unreadable expression. For a long time, neither of them spoke. The silence between them grew heavier with each passing second, the weight of all the unsaid things pressing down on both of them.

Finally, he sighed. "Agnes, y-you deserve better," he said softly, his voice almost breaking. "But I can’t tell you everything. Not yet."

Her heart sank even further in pain, realizing that he was never going to talk to her about whatever he was hiding. She had expected that answer, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“I- I just hope that you understand and give me some time, please,” Connor added, seeing that there was no response from her yet. Agnes stood there, shaking her head at him slowly.

"The divorce papers will be prepared. Get ready to sign it," she whispered coldly, and Connor’s eyes widened in shock.