Read Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Novel by Only For You Updated 2025 -26 - Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3213

Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3213

This section shifts from physical domination to political shockwaves — and that contrast is powerful. I’ve tightened the prose, sharpened the psychological weight, and strengthened the ripple effect across Chetvine.

Here is the refined continuation:

This kind of power was not merely martial strength.

It was precision.

It was control.

It was understanding the human heart so completely that resistance became meaningless.

Kelvin was no fool. He was a veteran rogue who had maneuvered around giants, even outplaying Donovan more than once.

Yet in Andrew’s hands, he hadn’t even made a splash before being dragged to the bottom.

Whether he drowned or survived depended entirely on Andrew’s mood.

That was the difference.

Andrew raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly.

“Kelvin, I preferred the version of you who wasn’t afraid of death.”

His tone was almost amused.

“Kneeling and begging… I didn’t expect that from you.”

“Rare sight.”

Kelvin, face soaked in blood, roared hoarsely, “What do you want from me? I admit I’m no match for you!”

“But the rest of my family is innocent!”

Andrew’s eyes cooled.

“Innocent?”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

He paused.

“And you’ve killed your share of innocent people, haven’t you?”

Kelvin’s face turned gray.

A miserable laugh escaped him.

Andrew turned slightly away.

“Keep kneeling.”

“When I’m in a good mood, you can leave.”

His voice dropped, calm and absolute.

“But if you try to escape without my permission…”

“Not a single Nieves in Chetvine will survive.”

Kelvin’s body trembled violently.

He clenched his fists and forced out, “What level are you now?”

Andrew didn’t even look back.

He walked away without answering.

That silence was more crushing than any reply.

Kelvin’s expression twisted — vicious, hollow, bitter.

In the end, he didn’t dare gamble.

He dragged himself to the front gate of the Lloyd estate.

And knelt.

Openly.

When a true expert made a move, the gap was undeniable.

Two years ago, Kelvin had broken through to the Martial God realm.

He had believed that was enough to stand tall anywhere.

Yet Andrew had nearly beaten him to death in mere exchanges.

Two years ago, Andrew’s energy core had supposedly been sealed — unable even to reach Martial Emperor.

Was it all an illusion?

Had Andrew been hiding his true depth the entire time?

Kelvin couldn’t tell.

And that uncertainty was the most terrifying part.

—

The news detonated across Chetvine like a thunderclap.

Kelvin.

Direct descendant of the Sylvan Peaks’ Nieves family.

The current family head’s most favored youngest son.

Kneeling at the gates of the Lloyd estate.

Those ignorant of the details were shocked.

Those who understood the implications turned pale.

For example—

Lorenzo.

“It’s over…” he muttered, his voice rising uncontrollably. “Even Kelvin lost.”

“He’s kneeling in public… like a watchdog.”

His hands trembled.

“What did he face in there? Even death wouldn’t make a man like Kelvin kneel!”

Kelvin had arrived in Chetvine like a storm.

Now he was reduced to something less than a beast of burden.

The contrast crushed Lorenzo’s spirit.

He felt despair settle in his chest.

Is there truly no one left who can suppress Andrew?

Has he cut off every path for the Owens family to rise?

Mikayla looked frantic.

“Dad, what do we do? If even the Nieves family can’t touch him, what about us?”

“Will he just wipe out our family next?”

Lorenzo snapped, his face ghostly pale.

“Mr. Vazquez!”

“There’s no other choice. We must find Mr. Vazquez!”

He rushed out the door, nearly stumbling.

Only Guillermo could give him a sense of safety now.

—

Meanwhile, Mikayla fled straight to Sovereign’s Apothecary.

She was Theon’s disciple — chief alchemist of the establishment.

Sovereign’s Apothecary was backed by the Divine Alchemists.

Even Andrew wouldn’t dare cause trouble there.

At least… that’s what she believed.

Theon snorted coldly.

“Two years have passed, and Andrew’s gotten arrogant.”

“Stay here. No one will touch you.”

He scoffed.

“Others may fear him. I don’t.”

Just then, his phone rang.

It was Titus, the Apothecary’s manager.

“Mr. Orben,” Titus said awkwardly, “please come out front. We have a distinguished guest.”

Theon frowned.

“You handle it. I’m busy.”

There was a pause.

Then Titus said carefully:

“He specifically asked for you.”

“If you don’t come out…”

“He says he’ll force his way in.”

Theon’s eyes narrowed.

“Who?”

Titus swallowed.

“It’s Andrew.”

—