The King Of War Returns (Jaden Rift) novel Chapter 127

The air outside the shattered Thornfell building still crackled with tension. Glass crunched underfoot as Drax stepped toward Shadow, cracking his knuckles with slow, deliberate menace. His eyes burned with quiet contempt.

“Heh…” Drax let out a dark chuckle, his voice low and mocking. “Don’t get it twisted. You’re still breathing because my boss—” he jerked his chin toward Jaden, “—wants answers. Otherwise, I’d have snapped your spine already.”

Shadow wiped blood from his mouth, still struggling to steady himself after Drax’s earlier strike. His pride screamed, but his mind calculated. His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sly grin.

“A man of your caliber… a master of core strength…” Shadow's voice slithered with persuasion, “—wasting your loyalty on Jaden Rift? What can he possibly offer you? Stick with me—” his voice dipped into temptation, “—you and I could split Ravenmoor down the middle. No one would dare challenge us.”

Drax stared at him, unimpressed. Then—Ptu!—he spat at Shadow’s feet, eyes cold as stone.

Shadow’s face darkened with fury.

“You—!” His words snapped off as movement caught his eye.

Jaden emerged from the building, his coat fluttering, his presence radiating unshakable dominance. Calm. Dangerous. Untouched.

Shadow’s bravado wavered, and desperation slipped into his voice.

“Jaden… since you’ve got a master of core strength backing you, why don’t we call this… a misunderstanding?” His fake smile barely concealed the fear creeping beneath the surface. “There’s no need to escalate.”

But Jaden’s smirk sharpened like a blade.

“You call yourself noble, yet the first thing you did was resort to violence,” Jaden replied coolly, each word dripping with contempt. “But now that the tables have turned, you suddenly want peace?” His eyes glinted with disdain. “You look exactly like what you are… a third-rate villain grasping for control when your arrogance slips through your fingers.”

Shadow’s jaw tightened, his pride fracturing.

Behind him, Brown staggered to his feet, his face still twisted in pain. Williams—the young Thornfell lackey—hurried to his side, helping him upright.

“Master Kendal!” Brown barked, voice shrill with frustration. “Why are you groveling to that bastard? He humiliated me! Crush him—kill him—avenge the Thornfell name!”

The crowd stirred, whispers flooding the street.

But Shadow straightened, masking his faltering pride with a sneer. He unsheathed his sword in a flash of silver, the blade gleaming under the city lights.

“You really think you can challenge me?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “I am Kendal the Shadow—the greatest swordsman in Ravenmoor. One strike—just one—and your head will roll.”

The crowd erupted in murmurs.

“That’s Kendal…”

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