My Lust System: I Inherited The Sin Of Lust And His Three Wives

The declaration came before sunrise and it came as Damian expected. When faced with opposition, the only path Wrath chose is force. Seeing them more as equals and not deities, allowed him to see their flaws and capitalize on them.

Every television station still capable of broadcasting interrupted its emergency coverage as the emblem of the Blood Dunes filled every screen across Lebanon.

A stern-faced general dressed in black ceremonial robes stood before the national flag, his expression devoid of emotion.

”By order of the Supreme Council of National Stability, the Republic of Lebanon is hereby placed under full martial law.”

Behind him stood dozens of heavily armed soldiers, their rifles held across their chests while armored vehicles idled outside the government palace.

”The disturbances witnessed over the past several days are no longer considered civil demonstrations. They constitute an armed terrorist insurrection orchestrated by foreign enemies seeking the destruction of our nation.”

His gaze remained fixed upon the camera.

”Any individual found assisting these terrorists will be treated as an enemy combatant. The Armed Forces are hereby authorized to use overwhelming force.”

”The curfew begins immediately. Anyone found outdoors after sunrise will be shot on sight.”

The broadcast ended.

Despite this warning, one obeyed. Instead, the streets became even more crowded. The people had already crossed the point of no return. Throughout Beirut, church bells rang without anyone pulling their ropes. Mosques echoed with prayers for the fallen while thousands continued marching toward government strongholds carrying rifles seized from abandoned checkpoints alongside the same Lebanese flags stained with the blood of those killed the previous day.

Entire families marched together. If they were going to die, they would die standing. Deep inside the military command headquarters, panic had completely replaced confidence.

”They ignored the declaration.”

”They’re still advancing.”

”They’ve occupied another police headquarters.”

”The southern district arsenal has fallen.”

A young intelligence officer rushed into the command room carrying fresh satellite photographs. He threw them onto the table.

”Sir! The rebels have captured over three thousand military rifles.”

Another officer added another report.

”The Fourth Division has officially declared for the revolution.”

Silence descended.

An elderly general slowly closed his eyes.

”They’re becoming an army.”

The commander standing at the head of the table looked toward the enormous operations map covering the wall. Entire sections of Beirut had turned red. Not long after, another report arrived.

”Tripoli has fallen.”

”What?”

”The governor fled, the police surrendered and the army joined the civilians. The city is no longer under government control.”

The room fell deathly silent as the commander slowly lowered his head. Suddenly the air in the room changed as the commanders eyes turned crimson and his voice deepened with an even deeper and unnatural voice overlapping his.

”If the cities wish to rebel, then we shall erase the cities.”

He looked toward every officer present.

” Send out my devotees. Crush these animals with all you have!”

Upon saying this the commander exploded, blood and organs splattering everywhere as his body reached its limit to host a Gods soul after 4 long seconds. The scene was horrifying but clearly this was not the first time it’s happening.

Minutes later, new orders left military headquarters and the true members of the blood dunes were sent out and almost instantly the tide of battle changed.

These were men who could directly charge through enemy fire and completely massacre everyone deemed enemies. They were ruthless, vicious and unimaginably cruel.

Artillery units soon received coordinates and joined what started from a simple protest to a full blown war. Attack helicopters lifted from their bases. Entire armored brigades began rolling toward Beirut.

The Blood Dunes had abandoned the idea of restoring order. Now they intended to crush Lebanon beneath overwhelming military force.

The first shell landed shortly after sunrise.

Booom!

An apartment block erupted into dust and concrete as windows shattered across several streets. People who had moments earlier been organizing barricades were thrown from their feet while smoke swallowed the entire neighborhood. Then came another and another.

Artillery batteries hidden outside the capital fired without pause and residential districts vanished beneath explosions. Attack helicopters swept low across the streets, their cannons tearing through abandoned vehicles and makeshift barricades alike. Machine guns echoed from every direction.

The revolution answered immediately. Former soldiers who had defected quickly assumed command.

”Move!”

”Spread out!”

”Don’t bunch together!”

”Keep the civilians behind cover!”

Captured armored personnel carriers rolled into the streets bearing hastily painted Lebanese flags while engineers reinforced intersections using overturned buses and concrete barriers.

Ordinary mechanics somehow kept damaged military vehicles running using little more than scavenged parts and determination. Doctors established underground clinics inside churches, schools and apartment basements.

The entire nation adapted with frightening speed under Damian’s watch. But it wasn’t just Lebanon, across the middle east, similar uprising unfolded as a result of one.

Weeks passed and Damain remained seated high above the middle eastern clouds, feeding off their desires and desperate prayers. During the revolution he made sure to make it known on a few occasions. These miraculous occasions became stories of legend that fueled their superstition and desire to fight against oppression.

They have the military with them and now they have God. The people referred to him as Shumukh in their prayers and he became a new rising deity in the middle east, one that controls all of the desert sand.

Slowly he was becoming a force capable of rivaling Kaizer’s influence in the middle-east.

Meanwhile, far beyond Lebanon’s borders, the world watched in horror. Every major news network abandoned normal programming. Satellite images displayed entire districts burning, hospitals overflowing with wounded civilians and columns of refugees stretching for kilometers toward neighboring borders.

Foreign correspondents struggled to describe what they were witnessing.

”What began as demonstrations has rapidly evolved into what international observers are now calling a nationwide civil war.”

Governments across Europe convened emergency meetings. The United Nations demanded an immediate ceasefire. Aid organizations warned of an unfolding humanitarian catastrophe.

Meanwhile, Washington had reached its limit. Inside the White House Situation Room, the atmosphere was unlike anything seen in years. The President stood before a massive digital map of Lebanon illuminated by hundreds of flashing indicators.

Around him sat the Secretary of Defense, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the Director of National Intelligence, the CIA Director, the Secretary of State and senior military commanders.

The President broke the silence.

”How many Americans?”

The CIA Director looked down at his report.

”Three confirmed dead. Seven are still missing and Two embassy contractors remain unaccounted for.”

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs stepped forward.

”Our surveillance confirms the Blood Dunes are deliberately targeting hospitals, journalists and aid workers.”

Finally the President spoke.

”This organization can no longer be treated as a domestic political actor. It is a terrorist regime.” He slowly looked around the table.

The Secretary of Defense nodded once.

”Our carrier strike group is already in the eastern Mediterranean. The Marines are prepared and the Sixth Fleet can establish maritime control immediately.”

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs added calmly,

”Airborne units can deploy within hours.”

The President remained silent for several long moments before finally giving the order.

”Begin preparations. I want operational plans finalized. If diplomacy fails,we end this terrorist government.”

__ Sin Of Wrath Territory: CinderFall Expanse ___

The Cinderfall Expanse was the military heart of the Underworld.

An endless land of volcanic plains, jagged mountains, lava rivers, and battlefields that stretched beyond the horizon. Ash constantly fell from the crimson sky while fortresses built into volcanoes overlooked armies that fought day and night.

War never stopped here.

Strength was the only law. Rank was earned through victory, not birth, and every demon was expected to prove themselves in battle. Blacksmiths forged weapons without rest while warriors trained, dueled, and marched to the next battlefield.

At the center of the realm stood the Citadel of Eternal Conquest, a massive fortress carved into the largest volcano in the Underworld. Rivers of lava flowed down its walls, and enormous banners bearing the insignia of Wrath flew above its towers.

The throne room reflected the realm itself. It was vast and built from black volcanic stone, with lava flowing through cracks in the floor. Dragon statues and the weapons of defeated enemies lined the walls, while crimson flames illuminated the chamber.

At the end of the hall stood the Throne of Wrath, forged from black dragonsteel in the heart of the volcano. Shaped like a dragon with jagged scales and towering horns.

Kaizer sat on that throne, his cold gaze fixated on Damian’s figure. The man was dressed in his Hanfu clothes with his black and white handfan covering the upper half of his face.

”You don’t know when to stop do you?”

Damain leaned back and crossed his leg.

”Now why would I stop what you started?”

Bam!

Kaizer slammed the armrest, unleashing a mild shockwaves that failed to bait a reaction from the stone hearted Damian.

”Do you think Sol can protect you forever?”