The First King Falls

Chapter 10

Orion City - Hotel Argentum - 42nd Floor

Elias Creed—The Widowmaker—moved fast.

He rolled out of his sniping position, abandoning his ruined rifle, and pulled a Glock-19 from his side holster. The second Damien's counter-sniper round destroyed his scope, Elias knew two things:

1. Damien wasn't running.

2. Damien was coming straight for him.

His pulse remained steady—controlled, professional. He had hunted war criminals, cartel bosses, and black-ops legends. He had never failed.

But as he reached the stairwell exit—

BOOM!

The entire metal door exploded inward, torn off its hinges, and before Elias could react—

A shadow blurred into the room.

Too fast. Too powerful.

Then—impact.

Damien slammed into him like a wrecking ball, driving a knee straight into his ribs. The air in Elias's lungs was ripped away. He staggered, but Damien didn't stop—

A punch.

A blur of motion.

A right hook crashed into Elias's jaw with inhuman speed, launching him across the room. His body smashed through a coffee table, sending glass and splinters flying.

Pain flared through his ribs. Broken.

Elias had fought elite assassins, death squad operatives, and rogue military forces. He had never been ragdolled.

He tasted blood. His vision blurred for half a second.

And Damien was already on top of him.

The God of War

For the first time in his career, Elias Creed felt real danger.

He had faced monsters before. But Damien wasn't just a man.

He was a force of nature.

Damien's obsidian eyes locked onto him, filled with something ancient, unstoppable.

"You thought you were hunting me?" Damien's voice was low, lethal. His grip tightened. "You don't even understand what you're dealing with."

Elias's fingers scrambled for a knife.

Damien saw it coming.

Before Elias could strike, Damien turned and hurled him through the glass balcony doors.

CRASH!

Glass shattered as Elias's body flew out into open air.

The world slowed.

The hotel balcony was forty stories up.

A normal man would fall.

But Elias wasn't normal.

Mid-Air Combat

As he fell, Elias did the only thing that could save him—he twisted in the air, firing his grappling line.

The hook shot out, wrapping around a metal railing five floors down.

His body snapped suddenly, swinging toward a lower balcony. His ribs screamed in pain, but he gritted his teeth and adjusted his angle, preparing to land.

But Damien was already above him.

Impossible.

Elias looked up just in time to see Damien launching off the edge of the broken balcony—

Straight down at him.

Like a missile.

Like a living weapon.

Elias barely managed to twist his body in time—

CRACK!

Damien hit him mid-air.

Elias felt his bones compress from the sheer impact. They plummeted together, spiraling down toward the streets below—but Damien wasn't just falling.

He was controlling the descent.

He twisted in the air, grabbed Elias's collar, and slammed him onto the next rooftop mid-fall.

BOOM!

The force cratered the rooftop's surface.

Dust exploded into the air as Elias hit the ground like a broken doll.

His body screamed in agony. His arms were barely working. His ribs? Destroyed.

Damien landed a few feet away, rolling smoothly, standing like nothing had happened.

Elias tried to push himself up. Failed.

Damien stalked toward him.

Each step a death sentence.

"You made a mistake," Damien said, his voice a deep rumble of dominance.

Elias coughed up blood. He grinned anyway.

"You're—" He exhaled sharply. "You're stronger than I expected."

Damien's eyes didn't waver. "I wasn't even trying."

Elias laughed. Even as his body screamed in pain, even as he realized he had never been outclassed this badly in his life—

He was having fun.

"I get it now," Elias muttered. "You're not a man, are you?"

Damien knelt down, his gaze cold. "No."

He grabbed Elias's wrist.

And then, in one fluid motion—he snapped it.

CRACK.

Elias's breath caught, his body jerking violently as pain shot through him.

"That was a warning," Damien said.

His grip tightened around Elias's broken wrist, making him groan in pain.

"Go back to Victor," Damien murmured. "Tell him I'm coming."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a mortal whisper.

"And tell him that next time? I won't be so kind."

Elias grinned through the pain.

Then…

His grin faded.

His expression shifted—from amusement to something else.

Recognition.

Respect.

Then… submission.

Elias lowered his head slightly. Not much. But just enough.

"Damien," he rasped, his breath shaky. "I've worked for warlords. Governments. Killers."

His bloodied lips twitched.

"But none of them—none of them—ever made me feel like this."

Damien studied him. Silent. Waiting.

Elias let out a breath. "I see it now." His voice turned low, quiet. "You're the one, aren't you?"

Damien's expression didn't change. "The one what?"

Elias's eyes gleamed.

"The one who wins."

A long silence stretched between them.

Then—Elias forced himself to sit up, kneeling before Damien.

His head bowed slightly.

And then—he spoke the words that changed everything.

"I swear my blade to you." His voice was steady now. Strong. Unshaken.

"I am the Widowmaker. I have ended kings, toppled nations." He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Damien.

"And now? I serve you."

Damien didn't blink. He simply studied Elias for a long moment.

Then—he extended a hand.

"Then get up," Damien said simply.

Elias reached up—and took it.

The Widowmaker had fallen.

But he had not been broken.

He had been reborn.