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Soul Reincarnation: Trials of the Landlord

In the wake of reincarnation, Alorian found himself in an unfamiliar realm. It dawned upon him that he was the destined heir to the throne of the illustrious Caeloria Kingdom, a kingdom shrouded in the Industrial Revolution and ancient traditions. Nurtured by a mother's love he had long yearned for, Alorian stood at the precipice of a fate entwined with the essence of Caeloria's legacy. To prove his worthiness as a sovereign, he embarked on the timeless Trials of the Landlord—a crucible that had tested the mettle of rulers for ages. Yet, beneath the surface of these hallowed trials, a sinister undercurrent churned. Deep-seated conflicts raged within the empire, masterminded by the insidious emperor who harbored ambitions of subjugating Caeloria. His nefarious designs sought to harness the empire's core power, granting him unrivaled dominion. Alorian's course was fraught with relentless tribulations. He ventured forth, his purpose two-fold: to reclaim the throne that was rightfully his as the ruler of Caeloria and to expose the emperor's clandestine scheme to other kingdoms. Note: Explicit content! This novel is not for those under 18! Contains sex scenes and incest!

Blackwizard · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
45 Chs

Accomplishment

Amarta sat on her disheveled bed, a threadbare blanket covering her, while her hand gently caressed her visibly growing belly. The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with despair. Despite the sorrow, an authentic smile graced her face as she found solace in the delicate movements of the child within her, a twinkle of hope in her world of darkness.

"Your Highness, are you pregnant?" one of the slaves in the next room inquired, her curiosity piqued. Her clothes were tattered, and her eyes held a mix of wonder and sympathy. "And how far along?"

The woman with tousled, blonde hair cascading over her right shoulder responded, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability, "Four months and two weeks."

Amid the tumultuous circumstances, the messy-haired woman displayed a radiant countenance, sharing in the queen's elation. "Is that so? That's remarkable!" But in the next second, disappointment tinged her voice, and her eyes held sadness. "If only your husband were still with us. He would have been overjoyed to know about his second child."

Amarta was suddenly shocked, her chest tightening, and her breath caught in her throat. Artonius, her husband, made her feel as though she had betrayed him by participating in the ritual with Alorian, crossing boundaries between mother and son, and deeply disappointing Artonius during a profoundly intricate moment. Guilt gnawed at her heart.

She knew that the disappointment would weigh heavily on Artonius once he learned of their current situation and the choices they had made. She couldn't bring happiness to her husband; instead, all she had was the enduring distress of a man who loved her unconditionally, regardless of Amarta's complex past.

Amarta's eyes welled up, and tears began to flow as she lowered her head, evoking guilt in the slave, who panicked and blurted out, "Oh, forgive me, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

Amarta shook her head while wiping away her tears. "It's all right. But, in my husband's final moments, I continue to let down him."

"That title seems too exalted for someone like me," the blonde woman added, her tears flowing even more freely. Her voice quivered with emotion. "A woman without self-worth."

"What? No!" the woman with dark, unkempt hair vehemently raised her voice, refusing to accept the queen's self-deprecation. Her eyes filled with determination. "Despite whatever circumstances brought you here, you remain our queen. I see you as a woman of incredible strength, a source of inspiration for all the women of Caeloria!"

Amarta endeavored to regain her composure and quell her sorrow. The woman's words infiltrated her heart, giving her the courage to stand tall and move forward. With a smile that she willed to be true, she turned back to the occupants of the adjacent cell. "Thank you so much, Dinta. I appreciate it."

Without warning, the entrance door flung open with a deafening crash, and the room was filled with the cacophonous echo of boots pounding against the floor. A group of individuals, clad in gleaming armor that caught the flickering torchlight, entered the room with a sense of purpose. Among them strode a man exuding an air of elegance and deceit, and he positioned himself directly in front of Amarta's cell.

This man was Herich, and his sly smile only heightened Amarta's suspicion that he bore nefarious intentions. "Step out, Amarta," Herich commanded, his orders executed swiftly by the knights as they unlocked the cell. Their pitch-black armor identified them as members of the enigmatic Phantom Omega. "I want you to come with me."

Amarta's brow furrowed, a palpable seriousness hanging in the room. "What do you want from me?"

"Relax, I have no desire to harm you. I simply want you to bear witness to something," Herich explained as he stepped inside. "If you refuse, would you prefer that your faithful knights endure excruciating torment?"

Amarta's eyes widened in an instant, and she rose to her feet, her hands beginning to emit a faint, ethereal glow. But Herich, who had closed the distance, swiftly seized her and immobilized her wrists, rendering her defenseless.

"Wait, is it just me, or have you been slowing down lately?" Herich taunted with a victorious smile as he thwarted Amarta's impending attack. "Follow me and refrain from resisting if you wish to spare them from hurt."

Amarta seemed to lack any intention to resist further. Her pregnant body was not just a physical hindrance but, more significantly, Herich's menacing threat had rendered her utterly helpless. She was keenly aware of whom Herich referred to—the knights who had always been by the queen's side, providing her with empathetic support.

With a reluctant sigh, Amarta yielded to Herich's demands, and she obediently followed. Dressed in a thin gown, provided by Chika, the queen stepped out of the room, flanked by the knights who cast an unsettling aura. She could sense their unspoken intentions; they were plotting something.

This time, they guided Amarta to a location on the surface, where rays of sunlight filtered through windows and crept through the corridors. Servants watched with a mixture of compassion and sadness as she passed. Finally, she arrived in a relatively circumscribed open expanse, adorned with the presence of a timeworn punching bag, a manifest emblem of the knights' sanctified training ground.

Amarta, who had spent months in the underground, welcomed the sun's rays as if they were a breath of fresh air. Her skin, pale as milk, absorbed the warmth, and her azure eyes had to squint against the sudden burst of daylight. They adjusted to the sight that lay before her – a meticulously organized formation of Phantom Omega battalions.

In the center of this assembly, three knights, clad in the distinctive armor of Caeloria, knelt with their mouths veiled by cloth. They were immediately recognizable to the queen. Behind them stood Rimbus, whose expression seemed eternally etched in a scowl of unfriendliness and perpetual anger.

Amarta couldn't shake the feeling that something was awry. The open area was conspicuously devoid of Caeloria knights, as the majority of those present were the Phantom Omega units, standing at rigid attention in various corners of the courtyard.

Several high-ranking Caelorian officials tiptoed around Herich, adopting an air of artificial cheer as they joined this mysterious gathering. Yet, Amarta couldn't ignore the gnawing sensation that there was more to this mass than met the eye.

Guided forward, she approached the trio of knights – Chika, Reynald, and Shameer – who had been her unwavering allies during her captivity. A strong hand from the Phantom Omega forced Amarta to her knees, and her bound hands pulled backward, causing her to arch slightly.

"Alright, Amarta," Herich called out, turned to direct his full attention to her. "I'm enough of this riddle."

"Tell me where you've sent Brendant, or I'll kill them!" Herich shouted in frustration.

***

The woman with silver hair, her long locks tied in a braided ponytail, had spent what felt like an eternity keeping an eye on the rustic wooden house. For two long hours, Althea patiently waited for Master Vedana and Alorian to emerge. In the company of her alchemical book, her thoughts drifted between the text and her concerns about Alorian's impending trial.

Althea couldn't quite fathom why she was feeling this way towards a man she had known for merely seven months. Yet, every moment spent with Alorian had brought her an unexplainable sense of comfort. The emotions swirling within her remained unexplored, as she hesitated to dive into the depths of such uncertainty.

Even though Isvhara's words had sounded convincing and accurate, Althea chose to linger in a state of doubt. The love she felt – was it genuine? Did she love Alorian as she loved her mother? For a girl who had almost forgotten what those emotions felt like for years, rekindling them presented a weighty challenge.

As she glanced back at the aged structure, Master Vedana emerged, with Alorian following behind. Quick as lightning, Althea shut her alchemical tome and shifted her undivided attention to the young man. Words were exchanged and then came an embrace. The aura surrounding Alorian exuded an infectious jubilance, leaving Althea no doubt about his success.

With Master and apprentice now stepping out into the open, Alorian eventually noticed Althea's presence beneath the shade of the tree. Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her gaze, all the while sporting a bashful smile as he made his approach. The black uniforms they wore rustled in the breeze, adding a welcome touch of coolness to the atmosphere between them.

"Oh, Althea? I didn't notice you were here earlier," Alorian exclaimed with a warm smile, his face lit up. "Were you waiting for me?"

Althea, still hesitant to meet Alorian's gaze, darted her eyes in various directions. "Ah, no... it's not like that. I was reading my book here and happened to see you, that's all."

"Is that so?" Alorian tilted his head, appreciating the thick canopy of leaves that provided a relaxed, tranquil atmosphere. "A delightful spot for some solace, don't you think?"

Althea curled the corners of her lips, offering a gentle smile as she finally mustered the courage to lift her hazel eyes to meet Alorian's. "So, how's the trial?"

Alorian took a deep breath before sharing the news with Althea's eager face. "It seems like I succeeded," he beamed wider. "The Obsidian Sage Order imparted some wisdom and encouraged me to start training in martial arts."

The still-blushing, beautiful woman opened her eyes wide, her lips echoing the happiness in her expression. "I knew you would succeed! You've worked so hard all this time, haven't you? You deserve this, Alorian. Congratulations!"

As Alorian gazed at Althea up close, that familiar sensation welled up within him once again. It was the overwhelming sense of comfort he had always felt around her. He knew that Althea had been a central figure in the visions he had seen, and it seemed she was slowly but surely revealing that role by always being there for him.

"I should have never doubted you, Althea," Alorian's voice sounded like a whisper, causing Althea to catch her breath. "Your existence here, it means everything to me."

Hello, dear reader! This would be the final chapter of the first volume. Thank you for your support thus far! I see you in the next volume!

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