The War God Is Back

Chapter 2

Elara’s four security guards moved instantly.

The moment Anita gave the order, they stepped forward like a wall of flesh and courage, standing between Elara and the armed men. Their guns were already raised, their eyes sharp, but they all knew the truth in their hearts. They were protecting her with everything they had, even if it would not be enough.

“Stay behind me!” one of them shouted.

But the night exploded before anyone could think again.

A deafening wave of gunfire ripped through the air, shaking the silence of the road. The guards fired back, but they were completely overwhelmed. Bullets flew from every direction, lighting up the darkness like deadly lightning.

One by one, the guards fell.

The first dropped to his knees without a sound, then the second stumbled forward before collapsing onto the asphalt. The third tried to move but never made it two steps. The fourth turned his head as if still trying to protect Elara with his body, and then he fell too.

Their blood spread slowly across the road, mixing with rainwater, as their bodies lay still under the cold night sky.

“Mom!” Justin screamed.

In a sudden burst of strength, he bit hard into the arm of the man holding him. The man shouted in pain and loosened his grip just enough.

That was all Justin needed.

He broke free.

“Christy!” he cried, grabbing his sister’s hand.

Christy was trembling so badly she could barely stand, but Justin pulled her forward with everything he had and ran toward their mother.

But Elara didn’t look back.

She couldn’t.

In that same desperate moment, she moved like a woman fighting against fate itself. She threw herself into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut, and turned the key with shaking hands.

The engine roared alive.

Without waiting another second, she pressed the accelerator to the floor.

The car shot forward like a bullet.

“Get her!” Anita’s voice finally broke, her calm control shattering completely. “Don’t let them escape!”

The men rushed to their vehicles, engines screaming as they started the chase. Bullets followed immediately, tearing through the air. The rear window of Elara’s car exploded into shards, scattering glass across the seats.

Christy screamed as Justin pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her small body.

“Mom, they’re shooting!” Justin shouted, his voice filled with fear.

Elara’s hands trembled violently on the steering wheel. Blood soaked through her side, spreading across her clothes where a bullet had already torn into her. Her vision blurred, and every breath felt heavier than the last.

But she did not stop.

“I won’t let them take you,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

The road ahead curved sharply, disappearing into darkness. The headlights cut through the night as she pushed the car harder, trying to escape, trying to survive.

But the gunfire only grew louder.

Then it happened.

A bullet struck one of the rear tires.

The car jerked violently.

“Hold on!” Elara shouted.

The vehicle spun out of control, sliding across the road as sparks flew from beneath it. The sound of metal scraping against stone filled the air as it crashed through the roadside barrier.

For a moment, everything went weightless.

Then the car plunged down the cliff.

It rolled violently, hitting rocks and trees along the way, each impact shaking the world inside it. Glass shattered, metal screamed, and the night became a blur of motion and pain.

Finally, it struck a large tree halfway down, twisted once more, and came to a stop among broken rocks and snapped branches.

Smoke rose slowly into the cold night air.

Silence followed.

Justin groaned as he forced his eyes open.

His head was spinning, and blood ran down his forehead, but he was alive. His ears rang loudly as he tried to understand where he was. The world felt distant and broken.

“Christy…” he whispered hoarsely.

Beside him, his sister lay slumped against the seat. Her eyes were closed, her small body still breathing, but she did not respond.

“Christy… Christy!” he cried, shaking her gently.

Still nothing.

Fear exploded inside him.

He turned desperately toward the front seat.

“Mom…”

Elara was slumped over the steering wheel. Her body was covered in blood, her breathing shallow and uneven, each breath sounding like it might be her last.

Justin’s hands trembled as he reached for her.

“No… no, please…” he sobbed, his voice breaking completely. “Mom, wake up… please don’t die… please…”

His small hands pressed against her wounds, trying to stop the bleeding, but nothing was enough.

The night stayed silent.

And in that silence, a child begged the world not to take his mother away.

Elara’s eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, there was peace in her expression, as if the pain, the fear, and the chaos around her had all faded away. Her trembling hand slowly lifted and touched Justin’s cheek, her fingers cold but gentle, holding on to him like she was afraid time would take him away too quickly.

“Justin…” she whispered softly, her voice barely more than air, blood staining her lips as she spoke. “Listen to me.”

Justin shook his head quickly, tears pouring down his face as he held her hand tightly, refusing to let go. “No, Mom… don’t talk like that… you are going to be fine, I will get help, I will—”

“Take your sister and run,” Elara interrupted weakly, her eyes locking onto his with painful clarity. “Leave Boron City… and never come back.”

Justin froze as if the world had stopped moving.

“No!” he cried out, tightening his grip on her hand. “I won’t leave you! I won’t leave without you!”

Elara tried to smile again, but her strength was already slipping away. Her hand slowly slid down from his cheek, her fingers losing their hold as if even her love could no longer keep her here.

The light in her eyes flickered.

And then it faded completely.

For a second, there was only silence.

Then Justin’s scream tore through the ravine.

“Mum! Mum!” he shouted, shaking her lifeless body as if he could force life back into her. “Wake up! Please, wake up!”

But Elara did not respond.

The world did not respond.

Only the cold night listened.

Footsteps suddenly crunched through the dirt nearby, slow and deliberate, breaking through Justin’s grief like a cruel reminder that danger had not ended.

His head snapped up.

The men had found them.

One of them stepped forward through the smoke and wreckage, raising his gun with cold certainty. His eyes showed no hesitation, no mercy, only orders that had already been decided.

“Boss said no witnesses,” he said flatly.

Justin’s body shook violently as he pulled Christy closer, shielding her with his arms as tightly as he could. Christy sobbed into his chest, too terrified to even scream anymore.

Justin closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

But the end did not come.

Instead, a sudden blur moved through the darkness.

A powerful force struck the gunman before he could pull the trigger, sending him crashing into the rocks with a violent impact. The gun flew from his hand as his body hit the ground and went still.

The remaining men barely had time to react.

In the next heartbeat, something moved through them like a storm.

One man was lifted off his feet and thrown backward into a broken tree, another collapsed instantly as a precise strike hit his chest, and another fell without even understanding what had touched him. The sounds of struggle, bones breaking, and desperate cries lasted only seconds before everything stopped.

Then silence returned again.

From the shadows, an old man stepped forward.

He moved slowly, but every step carried weight, as if the very ground respected him. His presence was calm, yet it made the air feel heavy, like standing too close to something dangerous and untamed.

He looked at Justin for a long moment.

Then he spoke in a low, steady voice.

“Come with me, son.”

Justin could not speak. He could barely breathe. The world he knew had ended, and the only thing left was the broken sound of his own heartbeat.

But that moment became the beginning of something else.

The old man carried him out of the wreckage that night, away from the burning remains of his past. He gave him food when he was hungry, silence when he was broken, and pain when he needed strength.

Training began without mercy.

Days turned into months, and months into years. Justin’s body learned to endure blows that would crush ordinary men. His mind learned to stay calm where others would panic. He learned how to fight, how to survive, and when survival demanded it, how to end a fight without hesitation.

Every lesson was carved into him through hardship, discipline, and suffering that never stopped.

Slowly, the frightened boy disappeared.

And in his place, something else was born.

A weapon shaped by loss and forged by time.

Years later, war finally came for him.

A neighbouring nation launched a full-scale invasion, and its armies poured across the borders like a tide of death that could not be stopped.

One defensive post after another fell in rapid succession, as soldiers were overwhelmed before they could even regroup, while cities that once stood proud and alive were reduced to burning ruins filled with smoke and silence. The once-strong defenses of Strookborn collapsed under the enemy’s relentless advance, and the people who survived could only run or hide as hope slowly disappeared from their hearts.

For the first time in many years, it felt as if the nation itself had forgotten how to fight.

Until a single soldier stepped onto the battlefield.

Until a single soldier stepped onto the battlefield.

Justin Ben.

He walked forward alone, his figure calm against the chaos, and the wind carried the weight of war around him as if the world itself was holding its breath. Clad in blood-soaked armor that had survived countless battles, he moved with a quiet certainty that did not belong to an ordinary man. The moment he appeared, something strange happened on the battlefield, as though even death itself had paused to watch him.

Then he charged.

He rushed into the enemy ranks without hesitation, cutting through trained soldiers with a speed and precision that turned the battlefield into chaos for the invaders. Blades struck him, but they failed to slow him down, spears snapped against his strength, and bullets that should have ended his life simply could not reach where he stood. To those who faced him, he was no longer human, because in their eyes he had become a living storm, something born from destruction itself and given flesh.

By dawn, the battlefield had changed completely.

Thousands of enemy soldiers lay silent across the broken ground, and the invasion that once seemed unstoppable had come to an end in a single night.

The people who witnessed it called him a hero, some called him a legend, and others whispered that no reward in the world could ever be enough to match what he had done. But before the court could even learn his true name or offer him honor, the man who had saved them disappeared without a trace, leaving only questions behind him.

Now, ten years later, he had returned.

Justin stood in silence as the wind brushed gently against his long coat, his expression calm and unreadable as though nothing in the world could move him anymore. Behind him stretched rows upon rows of soldiers, standing in perfect formation, each one trained and hardened by endless battles. They were the elite of the Northern Army, ten thousand strong, and every single one of them had been shaped for war under his command.

A man stepped forward from the front line and dropped to one knee.

“General,” he said firmly, his voice steady as he kept his head lowered in respect, still wearing a full military uniform that carried the weight of countless battles. “All ten thousand soldiers are ready to eliminate your enemies. Just give the order.”