THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

The captain of the first platoon made a formidable entrance as he approached his executioners. In the Solarian Empire, captains of any army were known to command respect through noble deeds, embodying the virtues that inspired loyalty and fear.

However, for any skilled commander, there was another, darker force required to maintain control—those who executed the bloodied tasks that no one else dared to undertake. These shadowy enforcers, known as executioners, were the hands that did the bidding of their masters, no matter how vile the order.

Within the De Gor family, the captain was more than just a leader; he was once a top executioner in the feared De Gor Le Rosa—a corps established by the head of the De Gor family as his personal branch of shadows and daggers.

This secretive group was dedicated to carrying out the most brutal and necessary of tasks, the ones that ensured the family's power remained unchallenged. And to lead his platoon, the captain sought only the best—the most ruthless and skilled warriors who could be moulded into perfect instruments of death as his executioners.

Among these chosen executioners was the Hero of Waste, a mad dog and champion from the desolate lands of the Maasai tribe. His reputation as a brutal and unstoppable force in the barren wastes had earned him a place within the De Gor's first platoon.

Alongside him was the Rogue Saintess, a woman blessed by the Sovereign at infancy, who had turned away from the holy capital's sanctuaries and instead embraced the chaos of the battlefield. She was a figure of contradiction, a saintess who found her true calling not in prayer and hymns, but in the blood-soaked fields of war.

Together, these two formed the deadly duo under the captain's command, their skills honed for one purpose—to execute the will of the De Gor family, no matter the cost.

As the two formidable warriors knelt in submission, their gazes fixated on the true force behind their actions, the atmosphere grew thick with tension. This was not just any man; this was Captain Kaiden De Gor, a figure whose mere presence could silence the bravest of souls. Known as the "Blood Whale," Kaiden was the firstborn of General Hilton De Gor, and his reputation was as vast and fearsome as the ocean itself. He was not merely a leader; he was a force of nature, a commander who had earned the undying loyalty of even the most unruly warriors like Amilia and Svara.

The air was heavy with unspoken fear as Amilia and Svara felt the cold sweat trickle down their foreheads. They had overstepped, letting their playful banter distract them from the gravity of their mission. The realization that they had erred in the presence of Kaiden was like a blade to the gut. They knew the consequences of disappointing him, and the weight of their failure bore down on them like a storm cloud ready to burst.

Kaiden moved with a grace that belied his imposing stature, each step measured and deliberate. As he approached, he seemed to glide past David, who stood rooted to the spot, his body betraying no movement, but his mind racing. David could feel it in his very bones—this was not an adversary he could face, not now perhaps. Kaiden's presence alone was overwhelming, a silent reminder of the chasm that separated David from true power.

Kaiden didn't even spare a glance at his brother. Weakness, in his eyes, was beneath acknowledgement. Instead, he focused his attention entirely on the two kneeling figures before him. With a slow, deliberate motion, he removed one hand from his pocket and brought it to his chin, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to weigh his options. The silence was deafening as he closed his eyes, deep in contemplation, pondering the fate of his executioners.

David's eyes were drawn to the new person. From behind, he observed the third figure standing before the two executioners—a man who exuded an air of calm authority, even as he stood casually, bathed in the soft light of the evening sun. The man's hair, a striking shade of pale lavender, was tousled in a way that seemed both deliberate and effortless.

His attire, a long black coat draped over tailored trousers, gave him an air of casual elegance, but it was his eyes that held David's attention.

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Those eyes, red and sharp as a blade, carried a weight that spoke of countless battles and endless wisdom. The man's expression was one of mild amusement, as if he found the entire situation vaguely entertaining.

He rested his chin on one gloved hand, fingers tapping lightly against his lips in a gesture of idle contemplation. It was clear that this was no ordinary man, but a master whose strength was matched only by his enigmatic nature.

As Kaiden continued to deliberate, the training ground seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his decision. Amilia and Svara remained frozen in place, their eyes fixed on the ground, too afraid to meet their captain's gaze. The tension was palpable, a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment.

Kaiden's voice sliced through the tension like a blade, sharp and commanding. "Report," he ordered, his tone brooking no nonsense. Amilia, ever the opportunist, saw her chance to shift the blame and save her own skin. She adopted a look of pure innocence, tears welling up in her eyes as she pointed a trembling finger at Svara.

"Lord Kaiden, it's all this brute's fault!" she cried, her voice dripping with false sincerity. "What?" Svara's voice was a mix of shock and disbelief. Amilia clasped her hands together in a theatrical display of piety, as though she were a saintess praying for absolution. "I tried to stop him, Oh Sovereign, but he wouldn't listen to me!" she exclaimed, her tears glistening like the dew on a morning rose.

Svara's blood boiled at her words. This wasn't the first time Amilia had thrown him under the bus, but this was the last straw. The air around him crackled with the intensity of his rage, his orange aura swirling wildly like a storm on the verge of breaking.

He fixed Amilia with a deathly glare, his voice a low growl filled with menace. "You lying hag," he spat, "if you think I'm going to fall into the pits of hell alone, you've got another thing coming. I'll drag you down with me, even if it costs me my life!"

Amilia, ever the actress, turned her head away, feigning distress as though her honour was being unjustly besmirched. But before the argument could escalate further, a sudden chill swept through the training grounds, freezing the very air with an aura of impending doom. Both Amilia and Svara immediately fell silent, their quarrel forgotten as they felt the full weight of Lord Kaiden's wrath bearing down upon them.

"Report," Kaiden repeated, his voice colder than ice. He paid no attention to their petty squabble, as he was used to their childish antics by now. Sensing that he could no longer afford to let Amilia's lies go unchallenged, Svara quickly seized the opportunity to speak. He straightened up, his voice steady as he began his report.

"My Lord, we found Lord Eric at the brink of death, at the mercy of David," Svara stated, his eyes flicking to Amilia, daring her to interrupt. Kaiden's eyes narrowed in surprise. He turned to look at David, truly observing him for the first time.

When the first platoon had arrived, Kaiden had gone to report to his father. Upon entering the office, he had been shocked to find Katrina injured, with a mysterious woman tending to her wounds. Fortunately, Amilia had been there to heal Katrina, and the mysterious woman had explained everything to his father. That was when Kaiden had been instructed to intervene, sending his two best warriors to stop the fight between David and Eric.

Now, as Kaiden studied his younger brother, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. 'When did he become so crafty?' Kaiden mused, his thoughts swirling as he considered this new side of David. There was something different about him, something that had changed.

Kaiden wasn't sure what it was yet, but he knew one thing: David was no longer the naive, weak boy he had once been. The realization brought a cold smile to Kaiden's lips, one that didn't reach his eyes. This was going to be interesting.

Kaiden's gaze remained fixed on David, his mind calculating as he weighed the implications of what had transpired. He could sense the silent defiance simmering beneath David's calm exterior—a storm barely contained, a wolf lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. The realization sent a ripple of intrigue through Kaiden's thoughts.

Without breaking his stare, Kaiden issued his orders with the authority of a seasoned commander. "Vice-Captains of the 4th and 7th Platoons," his voice rang out with icy precision, "dismiss everyone on the training grounds immediately." The command was met with swift action as the vice-captains, seasoned veterans themselves, began dispersing the gathered soldiers and onlookers.

The murmurs and whispers that had filled the air moments before quickly faded, replaced by the sounds of boots retreating and the distant clang of weapons being sheathed.

Kaiden then turned his attention to Svara, who had been standing beside the unconscious form of Lord Eric. "Svara," Kaiden's voice cut through the silence like a knife, "pick him up. Ensure he is taken to the mages and properly attended to." Svara nodded, his earlier anger momentarily subdued by the gravity of the situation. He moved swiftly, lifting Eric's limp body with ease and carrying him off the training grounds.

David, who had been standing still as a statue, watched the scene unfold with a composed yet unyielding expression. Kaiden's gaze shifted back to him, the tension between them palpable. "David," Kaiden said, his tone a mixture of command and warning, "you are dismissed for now. Report to the Earl tomorrow and explain yourself and your actions. You owe him that much."

David nodded, a gesture of obedience on the surface, but Kaiden saw the truth in his eyes. There was no fear, no remorse—only a burning resolve that reminded Kaiden of the untamed wilderness, of a wolf that had yet to reveal its full strength. It was a look Kaiden recognized well, one that spoke of a young warrior beginning to sharpen his claws, to carve out his place in the brutal hierarchy of the De Gor family.

Before David could turn to leave, Kaiden added in a tone that carried the weight of unspoken threats, "It would be wise, David, not to upset the natural order of things." The words were a subtle warning, a reminder that the De Gor family thrived on a delicate balance of power and respect. Yet, David's eyes did not waver. The defiance within them was like a spark, hinting at a fire that would one day burn through any constraints placed upon him.

Kaiden watched as David gave a slight bow and walked away, his back straight, his steps purposeful. He didn't need to respond verbally; his silence spoke volumes, and Kaiden understood it well. This was no longer the David of old—this was a David who had begun to understand the harsh realities of the world he was born into, a David who would no longer accept his role as the weak, sheltered brother. As he disappeared into the distance, Kaiden couldn't help but think,

He's finally starting to shape his claws as a true De Gor.

Once they were alone, Amilia broke the silence, her voice carrying a hint of concern. "Lord Kaiden," she began cautiously, "was it wise to let him off so easily? David almost took Lord Eric's life." Her words were careful, yet they carried the weight of the implications.

Kaiden didn't respond immediately, his gaze still lingering on the spot where David had stood. "You shouldn't underestimate him," he finally said, his voice low but firm. "There's something different about him. Something… unpredictable."

Svara, who had returned after delivering Eric to the medics, scoffed dismissively. "David is still a child," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "He may be showing a bit more backbone, but he's far from a real threat."

Amilia shook her head, her expression one of exasperation. "Svara, you're an idiot if you think that," she snapped, her earlier theatrics replaced by a rare moment of seriousness. "A child, maybe, but one who has the potential to grow into something dangerous. You'd do well to remember that."

Kaiden remained silent as the two bickered, his thoughts elsewhere. He knew better than to dismiss David's growth as mere posturing. The boy was changing, evolving, and it was only a matter of time before he truly came into his own. Whether that would be a blessing or a curse to the De Gor family remained to be seen.

Without another word, Kaiden turned on his heel and began walking towards the castle. The cold stone walls loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the turbulent thoughts swirling in his mind. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with potential and danger in equal measure. And Kaiden, ever the strategist, would be watching closely, ready to strike when the time was right.

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AN: Hey guys, this section is worth 2 chapters, I really want to finish the first volume and begin the 2nd volume with the coming-of-age ceremony and let me tell you it going to be fire. Happy reading.