The King Of War Returns (Jaden Rift) novel Chapter 123

At The White Prestigious Hotel — Grand Banquet Hall

The crystal chandeliers sparkled like diamonds above the marble floors. Waiters in black-and-white uniforms weaved through the sea of wealthy elites, their silver trays stacked with the finest wines and delicacies money could buy.

The atmosphere hummed with the low murmur of conversations, laughter, and the soft clink of glassware.

Tonight wasn’t an ordinary banquet.

It was a gathering of power. Influence. Secrets. And at the center of it all—

Shadow.

The most dangerous swordsman in Ravenmoor, cloaked in tailored black, a glass of red wine swirling lazily in his hand.

“Such a grand turnout… all for me,” Shadow smirked, standing atop the marble platform, his sharp features glowing under the golden lights. His voice sliced through the chatter like a blade. “Truly… I’m flattered.”

The crowd rippled with polite laughter, though beneath the surface, many watched him with veiled suspicion… or fear.

An elderly man with slicked-back silver hair and the poise of an old aristocrat raised his glass. “Master Kendal, with your strength and legacy, Ravenmoor will prosper under your watch. We’ll be counting on you.”

Shadow—real name Kendal Gravesend—tipped his glass, draining the crimson liquid in one smooth motion. His eyes gleamed like sharpened steel.

“Of course,” Shadow declared, his voice calm but carrying undeniable authority. “Together, we’ll make Ravenmoor… powerful again.”

The crowd erupted in applause, some with genuine admiration, others with carefully masked resentment.

In the Shadows of the Room

Anthony Scarface sat alone at a corner table, fingers curled tightly around a glass of untouched whiskey. His sharp jaw flexed, eyes cold as ice.

Vincent kidnapped my daughter…

His fists tightened.

Now his brother, Master Kendal, has the nerve to invite me to his little parade?

His thoughts burned like gasoline.

But before he could sink deeper into his rage, Shadow approached, a faint smile playing at his lips.

Shadow’s expression didn’t falter. But beneath that cool exterior, the tension thickened like fog.

As Anthony turned to leave—

A familiar voice, rough and laced with arrogance, cut through the air.

“Well, well… look who’s still brooding after all these years.”

Anthony froze mid-step, eyes narrowing. He turned—and there he was.

Williams Gravesend.

Grinning like the devil himself, dressed sharply in black, scars and battle-hardened experience etched into his face.

“Williams?” Anthony’s voice faltered, shock flickering across his normally unshakable facade. “You… you were locked up—”

Williams chuckled, his grin widening as he closed the distance between them. “You really think a little cell in Ravenmoor could keep me?” He leaned in slightly, his voice low, laced with mocking amusement. “Come now, Anthony. You’ve been in this city long enough… is there anything Master Kendal can’t handle?”