Tyrant's return: Reborn as a Good-For-Nothing Young Master

The system's warning blinked before Fenrir's eyes.

[ALERT: Two Divine Council Members Approaching at High Speed.]

[Estimated Arrival Time: 03:12 minutes.]

He closed the window and looked at Zerg and Shelly, who had just returned from scouting the town's perimeter.

"They're coming."

Fenrir said flatly.

Zerg raised an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"Two of the council's dogs. Generals. Strong ones. We have about three minutes before they get here."

Fenrir's voice didn't waver.

Shelly cracked her knuckles, eyes flashing.

"What are we doing, then? Hiding?"

Fenrir's gaze flicked over to her, unimpressed.

"I don't hide."

"Neither do I. Let them come. I've rotted in their dungeons long enough."

Zerg growled.

Fenrir nodded once, then turned.

"We're taking this outside the town. Too many civilians here. If we fight in these narrow streets, we'll be wasting energy. Out in the open, we can end this quickly."

The three of them moved swiftly through the streets, slipping past alleys and avoiding patrols.

A few onlookers caught glimpses of them and muttered among themselves, but none dared to follow.

Fenrir led them to a barren field just past the city's outskirts—an open plain dotted with craters and remnants of old, forgotten battles.

The wind howled faintly, and the earth carried the scent of dust and iron.

Once they were in position, Fenrir turned back to his allies.

"I'm at about seventy percent strength. Another few battles, and I'll be back to full power. But for now, this will do."

He said quietly.

Zerg grinned.

"That's still more than enough."

Shelly crossed her arms.

"Two generals versus the three of us? Let's see if they still carry that arrogance when we're done."

Moments later, the sky shimmered. A ripple tore through the air, and two figures emerged, floating effortlessly above the ground.

Vortan and Mira.

Vortan wore golden armor, gleaming with divine runes.

His hammer crackled with energy, its weight dragging lightning behind it. Mira, slender and wrapped in white and violet robes, radiated cold authority. Her eyes gleamed with contempt.

"Well, well. So it's true. The Rat King has returned."

Vortan said, his voice like thunder.

Fenrir didn't flinch.

"You're a little early for the funeral."

Mira's voice was sharp and clean.

"Surrender now, and we'll make it quick."

Zerg laughed.

"You'll need to learn how to crawl before you can run your mouth like that."

"I'll enjoy shutting you up."

Vortan muttered, his hammer beginning to glow.

The ground trembled as Fenrir took a step forward.

"This isn't about survival anymore. This is payback."

He extended his hand and shadows began to spread out behind him. Illusions. Dozens of figures flickered into existence—twins of Fenrir, Zerg, and Shelly, each one radiating killing intent.

Vortan scowled.

"Cheap tricks."

"Oh really? Then prove it."

Fenrir replied, vanishing into the mirage.

In a split second, the battle began.

Zerg lunged forward with a roar, stone erupting from the ground as he manipulated the terrain, slamming boulders and spikes toward Vortan.

The divine general met him head-on, smashing through the attacks with brutal swings of his hammer, each blow sending shockwaves across the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Shelly danced through the air, fire trailing from her every movement. Her chains lashed out like serpents, aiming straight for Mira.

The general's staff summoned barriers of ice, clashing with the flames in bursts of steam and sparks.

In the chaos, Fenrir's illusions twisted around the battlefield, disorienting both enemies. He moved unseen, striking with precision and fading again into the mirage. His voice echoed in the air.

"You call yourselves divine. But all I see are weaklings hiding behind titles."

Mira growled, spinning and releasing a massive frost pulse that froze five illusions instantly.

"Come out, coward!"

A blade answered her call—slashing across her back in a spray of blood. Fenrir's real form reappeared only for a moment before vanishing again.

"Don't command me."

He whispered behind her ear.

Vortan, enraged, pounded the ground and sent a wave of energy outward.

"Enough!"

The shockwave disrupted many of the illusions and staggered Zerg.

But the former prisoner gritted his teeth and pushed forward, slamming his fists into the earth and creating a stone gauntlet around his arm. He charged again, screaming.

"This is for every day I spent in your cursed cell!"

The hammer and gauntlet collided, causing a sonic boom that echoed across the plains. Dust and debris flew everywhere, blinding the battlefield.

When the smoke cleared, Vortan was kneeling, blood dripping from his mouth. Zerg stood tall, breathing heavily, but unbroken.

Mira turned to retreat, seeing the tide shift.

But Fenrir was already there, eyes glowing.

"Going somewhere?"

He raised his hand.

The world warped. Mira screamed as the illusion engulfed her entirely.

And then—silence.

The battle was far from over. But the first taste of vengeance had begun.

Mira clutched her side, blood staining the silk of her divine robes.

Her breaths came shallow and uneven as she watched Vortan struggle to his feet, his hammer dragging behind him.

The ground around them was a battlefield of broken stone, flickering illusions, and scorched craters—chaos left in the wake of Fenrir and his companions.

She narrowed her eyes at Zerg, who was still standing tall despite his wounds, and at Shelly, whose chains coiled like living fire. And then… there was Fenrir—untouched, calm, his power growing with every second.

They had come expecting to crush rebels.

Instead, they were the ones on the brink of collapse.

Mira's hands trembled. Her magic was nearly spent. The divine council had grown complacent in its peace, dulled by centuries of stability.

And now that Fenrir was back… now that their enemy had returned, they were paying the price for it.

"Vortan,"

She said softly.

He didn't look at her.

"What?"

"We're not going to win this."

He gritted his teeth.

"I can still fight—"

"You're not hearing me. I said we're not going to win together."

She stepped closer, blood trailing behind her.

That made him turn. His eyes, storm-gray, widened slightly.

"Mira, what are you—"

"I'm giving you my power."

"No."

"Listen to me!"

She snapped, voice cracking.

"If you fall here, then no one will be left to warn the others. You're the stronger of us. Always have been. Take what's left of my divine essence and finish this fight. Kill Fenrir if you can, or escape. Just don't let it all end here."

Vortan looked like he wanted to argue—but one glance at her, pale and barely standing, silenced him.

"You were always stubborn."

He muttered.

"And you were always slow. Let's fix both problems in one go."

She said with a faint smile.

Without waiting for permission, she stepped forward, placed her hand on his chest, and closed her eyes.

Light poured from her body—pure, searing divine energy that surged into Vortan like a flood.

His eyes went wide as her essence poured into him, burning through his injuries and amplifying his strength tenfold.

Mira's legs buckled. Her body began to dissolve into shimmering particles, but her voice remained steady.

"End this… before more people die."

And then she was gone, almost as if she never existed.

Vortan stood alone, transformed by her sacrifice—stronger, angrier, and more dangerous than before.