Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren)

Aspen's scream pierced the night. For a moment, she was certain bullets would tear through her. However, Andrew's arms locked around her, shielding her completely as he kicked the shredded sofa aside.

Then, a gold needle flashed from Andrew's fingers. The burly and tall Andarov Markovic snarled as his right wrist erupted in pain, and his Desert Eagle clattered to the floor.

Shocked and angry, Andarov quickly raised his other gun, ready to continue firing. Just then, Andrew blurred across the room and crushed an uppercut into his jaw.

"You're alive! Good. I'll peel your spine out myself and avenge my subordinates!" Andarov yelled. He dumped his remaining gun, elbows smashing Andrew's strikes.

Just like that, the two started fighting in the lobby on the first floor.

Srovikan fighters were already brutes, but Andarov was a wrecking ball. Every collision splintered walls, and every missed punch cratered the floor. Before long, the villa, already in ruins, was destroyed further.

Aspen's nightwear was already torn in several places, revealing her smooth skin. Seeing that Andrew seemed to be at a disadvantage, she exclaimed anxiously, "I'l help!"

"Stay down!" Natasha snapped, rushing downstairs. "You'll just get in his way."

Andarov swung a brutal punch straight at Andrew's head, but Andrew tilted just enough to avoid it-clean and precise.

The punch did not stop there. It smashed straight through the villa's outer wall, exploding stone and dust in a violent display of raw power.

Andarov sneered, "You Holtrien soldiers probably don't know my name. I'm the commander of the Blood Wolf Mercenaries. Before I retired, I served in the Eclipse Protoco, and there's actual footage of me standing guard outside the Zlatodvor Court! But unfortunately for you, you won't live long enough to appreciate any of my former glory."

With a vicious grin, a combat knife suddenly slid into Andarov's hand. He spun it with expert precision, slicing the air with ghostly afterimages as he launched a relentless series of attacks.

Each strike came fast and deadly, but Andrew dodged every single one by the skin of his teeth, his movements so smooth and precise that Aspen and Natasha watched with bated breath, palms slick with cold sweat.

Two minutes in, Andarov was panting like a wild beast, his knife hand trembling from fatigue.

He roared in frustration. "You Holtrien monkeys-endurance is all you've got! Andrew, if you've got any guts, fight me head-on!"

Andrew stepped from the shadows, his face unreadable and calm. "All we have is endurance? Fine. Let me show you what else we're capable of. And since you clearly look down on Holtrien fighters...

"Let me just say, from where I stand, Srovika Federation soldiers like you-mercenaries without honor or loyalty—you're nothing more than vultures. No better than mangy strays scavenging on the roadside."

Andarov howled. "Bastard! How dare you insult our sacred soldiers? I'll make you pay for that!"

Andrew did not waste another breath and charged forward like a cannonball, his fist winding up and slicing through the air with terrifying force, straight toward Andarov's chest.

Andarov raised his own fist to counter the blow, grinning arrogantly as if he could already hear Andrew's bones cracking under the impact.

Their fists collided with a loud bang, and a shockwave burst through the grand lobby like a sudden gust of wind.

Andrew stood still after the punch, unmoving as stone. Andarov, on the other hand, froze as he stared down in disbelief. His forearm had exploded-muscle fibers shredded, bone shards flying like shrapnel.

Then, came the scream. A deep, guttural howl of pure pain.

Aspen and Natasha were stunned beyond words. Andrew had blown apart Andarov's entire arm with just one punch, and they wondered how that was even humanly possible.

"Iron Avalanche..." Andarov gasped, face blanching. "A killing strike from Dragon Fist. Who the hell are you?"

Clutching the bloody stump of his ruined arm, he stumbled back, a flicker of raw fear flashing across his rugged face. It was like he had come face to face with something beyond human.

Andrew replied flatly, "I'm surprised you recognized it."

"Impossible!" Andarov backed away, voice fraying.

"Dragon Fist is restricted-only Holtrien's royal bloodlines learn it! That

technique... It once took down our strongest presidential guard! Andrew, you can't possibly know that move unless you're "

Before he could finish, Andrew's

hand slashed forward like a blade. In a final desperate surge, Andarov

unleashed everything he had leftnet?

roaring and raising his one remaining arm to block thenoveldrama

ove

incoming strike.