Read Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Novel by Only For You Updated 2025 -26 - Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3247

Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3247

At Chetvine’s southern border checkpoint, engines powered down in perfect sequence. Five hundred vehicles formed a silent steel wall across the main artery leading into the city.

Doors opened.

Boots hit pavement.

Five hundred elderly men stepped out in unison.

No one gave a speech.

No one needed to.

Nearly a third of them had once worn stars on their shoulders—major generals, lieutenant generals—men who had commanded tens of thousands in their prime. Age had taken their positions, but not their edge. Years of secluded overseas training had refined them further.

Now they stood like drawn blades waiting to fall.

There was no chief commander.

Only a vacant position.

And every one of them knew who it was reserved for.

Far to the south—

Orson advanced like a storm front.

His aura tore across highways and hills alike, vegetation flattening in his wake. He had already sensed Wyatt’s fall. He had sensed Pablo’s engagement.

And he had understood.

If Andrew survived this rotation assault, the balance of Holtrien would tilt permanently.

So he accelerated.

Back atop the Skytower, Guillermo lowered his hand from the earpiece.

“The military has moved,” he said flatly.

Lorenzo’s expression shifted. “General Turman… is intervening?”

Guillermo’s eyes narrowed.

“He won’t strike me. That would shatter the political framework outright. But intercepting Orson?” He gave a thin smile. “That’s within his domain.”

Lorenzo inhaled sharply.

“So the third wave…”

“Will never arrive,” Guillermo finished coldly.

His original design had been flawless.

Wyatt to exhaust Andrew.

Pablo to pressure him.

Orson to finish him.

A rotating siege of four Martial Gods.

No one survives that.

Yet Philip had sliced through the formation before it fully closed.

Guillermo’s fingers tightened against the railing.

“For two years he restrained himself. I thought he intended to remain neutral forever.”

Lorenzo hesitated. “And now?”

“Now he’s chosen a side.”

South of Chetvine—

Orson finally slowed.

The road ahead was blocked.

Five hundred figures stood motionless beneath the dimming sky.

The pressure they emitted did not explode outward like a Martial God’s aura.

It layered.

Condensed.

Interlocked.

Five hundred near-Emperor presences fused into a single suffocating field.

Orson’s eyes darkened.

“Iron Cavalry…”

A gray-haired man stepped half a pace forward—no rank insignia, no decoration.

Philip was not present.

But his will was.

The message was simple.

If Orson moved one more step—

War would begin inside Holtrien before the continental war ever erupted.

Orson’s aura flared violently, crashing against the united field before him.

The Iron Cavalry did not retreat.

Several veterans even adjusted their grips on their hundred-pound war blades, expressions calm—almost nostalgic.

They had once fought nations.

Facing one Martial God did not frighten them.

Back at Skytower—

Lorenzo swallowed. “Then… Andrew survives?”

Guillermo slowly began to smile.

“Survive?”

His eyes gleamed with something unhinged.

“You think I prepared only three moves?”

Lorenzo felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Guillermo continued softly,

“Wyatt was first. Pablo second. Orson third.”

He leaned closer to the railing, gazing toward the distant battlefield where Andrew and Pablo still clashed in catastrophic bursts of force.

“My fourth move,” he whispered, “is not a person.”

Lorenzo’s breathing grew shallow.

“It’s something no one can predict. Not Philip. Not the Divine Dragon Order.”

Guillermo’s smile widened.

“By the time they realize it, Andrew will already be dead.”

He straightened slowly.

“Yes, I may lose my position as National Advisor. I may be forced to step down.”

His gaze shifted toward the horizon beyond Holtrien.

“But when the Eastern and Western continents ignite…”

His voice turned cold and resolute.

“Chaos will need architects.”

“The royal families. The Eight Ancient Sects. Even the political sphere—”

“They will still require someone who understands the board.”

Lorenzo stared at him as though seeing him for the first time.

In that moment he understood:

The battlefield in Chetvine was only the surface.

Beneath it lay a far more terrifying war—

Of timing.

Of leverage.

Of sacrifice.

And somewhere in the heart of the ruined street—

Andrew’s aura surged again, climbing toward a threshold that would make every scheme either irrelevant—

Or catastrophic.