Yondu had seen countless battles across the stars, but nothing prepared him for this moment.

The blue-skinned Ravager captain felt his heart stop when Wanda Maximoff reached out with her bare hand and seized his Yaka Arrow mid-flight. The whistle-controlled weapon had been his pride, a deadly tool that pierced fleets and silenced rebellions. No one not Kree soldiers, not rival captains had ever touched it.

Yet here she was.

The Scarlet Witch, her crimson eyes glowing faintly, held it as if it were nothing more than a toy.

“How…?” Yondu’s pupils shrank. His lips trembled around the whistle as he blew harder, pouring every ounce of control he had into the arrow. It screamed and writhed, straining against Wanda’s grip like a trapped beast.

But Wanda’s fingers only tightened. Scarlet energy pulsed through her palm with a sharp crack.

Snap!

The arrow shattered into glittering shards, scattering to the ground like fragments of a broken dream.

Yondu staggered as if a hammer had smashed into his skull. His body swayed, his breath faltered. His weapon was more than metal; it was an extension of his soul. To see it crushed so effortlessly his mind recoiled.

“No… impossible…” he whispered. Then instinct screamed at him: Run.

But hesitation kept him rooted. His men, emboldened by numbers, unleashed a storm of plasma fire. Blue-white bolts tore through the air toward Wanda.

For a heartbeat, Yondu allowed himself hope. Maybe she would flinch. Maybe she would falter.

Instead, Wanda furrowed her brows.

A wave of scarlet light erupted from her body, rippling outward like a tidal wave. The plasma bolts dissolved the instant they touched the crimson field, vanishing as though they had never existed.

The battlefield fell silent.

Rowan watched with a faint shake of his head. He had known Wanda was powerful borderline unstoppable but witnessing it firsthand was staggering. With the Chaos Magic fused to her Telekinetic arts, her range and power had grown exponentially. At close quarters she could repel entire battalions with a single pulse. With more time, Rowan suspected she would gain the ability to erase matter itself with a thought.

She was becoming a nightmare for anyone who dared stand in her way.

“Damn bug…” Yondu muttered, panic replacing bravado. His men realized the truth as well. Their eyes widened, their grips faltered, and terror replaced greed.

“Run!” Yondu shrieked.

The Ravagers broke ranks, scattering like frightened animals.

But Wanda would not let them go. With a single thought, three knives lifted from her belt, orbiting her like streaks of silver lightning. They shot forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

In seconds, bodies crumpled one after another. Screams were cut short, and silence claimed the Ravagers.

Only Yondu survived, sprinting desperately toward the command deck. His chest heaved with each stride. Just a few more meters. If he reached the sealed chamber, he could lock the blast doors and maybe just maybe live another day.

But his hope was brief.

Wanda extended her hand, fingers curling into a fist. Scarlet tendrils coiled around Yondu’s body and yanked him backward.

He slammed against the deck with a thunderous crash. Pain lanced through his chest as he coughed blood, struggling to breathe. When his eyes lifted, Rowan was there.

The young man’s gaze was cold, distant, almost godlike. Yondu felt ice seep into his veins.

Wanda stepped lightly over the corpses, her nose wrinkling at the stench of blood, but her face remained calm. To her, they deserved nothing less. They had dared insult Rowan, dared imagine touching what belonged to him. Their lives were forfeit.

She crossed the deck and knelt beside Rowan, her voice soft, submissive. “Master.”

Rowan placed his hand on her head, fingers brushing through her hair. His tone was gentle. “Well done.”

Wanda’s lips curled into a smile. The nausea of bloodshed melted away beneath the warmth of his approval.

Yondu, sprawled on the floor, watched in disbelief. A beauty of such terrifying power bowed like a loyal servant, her eyes alight with devotion. He had plundered countless worlds, but never seen anything like this. His chest constricted in despair.

Why here? Why on Morag of all places? Why him?

He cursed Peter Quill Star-Lord under his breath a hundred times. This was all that brat’s fault.

Rowan stepped forward, his shadow falling over Yondu.

“You’re Yondu, aren’t you?” His voice was calm, almost conversational.

“Yes.” Yondu’s throat rasped. He straightened his spine with the last of his pride.

“You came for the Orb, the Infinity Stone.”

Yondu’s eyes widened. So that was it. Rowan wasn’t here by chance. He was a contender in the cosmic struggle. Just like Ronan. Just like Thanos. The damn Orb had drawn another monster.

Yondu’s teeth clenched. “If I answer you… will you spare me?”

“No.” Rowan’s reply was cold, unflinching.

Yondu blinked, stunned by the blunt honesty. Most killers would at least lie. Rowan didn’t bother.

“Then kill me now,” Yondu spat, eyes squeezing shut. For a moment, his old Ravager pride flickered to life.

Rowan leaned closer. “Tell me where Peter Quill is, and maybe I’ll let him live. Refuse, and when I take the Orb, I’ll kill him too.”

Yondu’s chest lurched. How did this man know about Quill? About the bond he refused to admit?

His lips curled. “I don’t care about that boy. He betrayed me. Kill him if you want.”

Rowan straightened, unimpressed. “Then die.”

A knife streaked through the air, plunging between Yondu’s brows. Blood sprayed as his body collapsed. His eyes remained open, filled with regret. He had wanted Quill to live. He had almost spoken. But pride, stubbornness, and fear of weakness sealed his tongue.

Now it was too late.

Rowan turned to Wanda. “Come. We’re going to Xandar.”

The Vibranium ship detached from the Ravager craft, slipping into a jump corridor that lit the void with silver fire. Behind them, Yondu’s empty ship drifted, lifeless.

Far away on Xandar, events unfolded as if scripted: Star-Lord had been ambushed by Gamora, then captured alongside her by the Nova Corps, joined soon after by Rocket and Groot. Their brawl landed them in the notorious Kyln prison, where fate slowly bound them together as the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Rowan didn’t care. His eyes were fixed on the Power Stone. If it truly amplified his strength, he could leap another tier on his path toward supremacy.

Within days, the Vibranium ship reached the asteroid belt where the Kyln orbited. Rowan and Wanda spent the time training, refining their skills. She fought against his flying daggers, learning to survive barrages of projectiles, each failure punished in ways that left her cheeks burning crimson. He honed his own mastery of the Celestial Codex, advancing further with each meditation.

On the sixth day, Aurora’s voice rang through the ship. “Boss, the Kyln’s systems are in chaos. Gravity fluctuations detected. Looks like a prison break.”

Rowan’s eyes opened. The nineteen daggers circling him froze in midair. A smile touched his lips. “It begins.”

They didn’t wait long. Aurora soon detected a ship circling the prison, stalling instead of fleeing. Rowan’s expression sharpened. The Guardians.

“Intercept them,” he ordered.

The Vibranium vessel angled toward its prey.

Inside the smaller craft, Quill tapped his helmet, music blaring from his old cassette player. He was smiling, Orb in hand, ready to reunite with his companions. Rocket steered, Gamora tense at his side, Groot looming quietly.

Then a silver shadow descended.

Quill barely had time to curse before an unseen force seized him mid-flight. His body jerked, dragged helplessly toward the imposing alien ship.

“Fire!” Gamora shouted.

Rocket slammed a button. Energy cannons blazed, blue light lancing out. The blast struck the silver hull only to be absorbed in a shimmer of violet particles.

The Guardians froze in disbelief. The weapon that could reduce buildings to rubble had not even scratched the enemy ship.

They had no idea what kind of storm was about to consume them.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep