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Supreme Ruler: Control Is Greater Than Power!

My life? Many people see me as the most fortunate person existing. Maybe it was due to the power I wield, or what I had in my possession. But I found it hilarious; how I, myself, find my life worthless, every and anything I cared about getting burned in the flames of my ever-flowing energy. I don't mean it literally, more like… a metaphor, I guess. The world always opposed every and anything I stood for. I'm sure if you stood against me you would end up victorious. Anyway, off with my sorrows. To make everything interesting, I'll have to show you a clearer view of the world I live in.  Here it is; the story I so much wanted to share with you… all of you… *** In Archon, the union of a demon and angel was considered sacrilege to all its inhabitants—Apart from this glaring hatred for the union, any offspring from the union would die a miserable death. Stiles, a Nephalem, birthed from the union of a demon and angel had no choice but to face this challenge head-on, his parent's life becoming the payment for his survival. Stiles, filled with anger, tried to end his life but failed with every attempt.  Embarking on a journey to end his miserable life, he came in contact with a fortress that will change his life, turning him from a depressed boy into a Ruler—one that will reign over the land of Archon. ______________ Good day, ladies/gentlemen.  I've not done much writing, but I hope you would check my work out and give feedback. A/N: 100 power stones= 1 chapter. 10 Golden Tickets= 1 chapter. Thanks~ ----------- The cover photo is not mine, so if you are the artist or you know the artist, kindly communicate. Thanks~

Hamzat_11 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
85 Chs

Decision.

Tareef stood there silently, gazing at the tattered corpse of the burly black figure. He had decided to use more strength, avoiding any accidents in the process.

"Ohh, Lord Tareef! That Possessed was just like an infant before your holy might!" Clay uttered, stars forming in his hazy eyes.

'So cringe… now you make me wanna bury myself six feet below…'

Tareef sighed, still not taking his eyes off the corpse.

He knew well of Possessed's tenacity; they were just like zombies in a sense.

Ciro and Clay approached slowly, apprehensively surveying the house.

"Is there a possibility of more Possessed existing in Blythe?—no, Kynburgh?" Ciro inquired solemnly, his eyes darting around.

"Hardly… our fortress is not so low," Tareef retorted, feeling paranoid by his words.

'For one to exist under our nose, there might also be more of them, but… why did he expose himself?