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Infernal Monarch

John had always despised fire, the merciless element that claimed his family and left him alone. When fate cruelly throws him into the flames that were meant to end his life, he finds himself not in the afterlife, but reborn in a mystical realm governed by magic. Surrounded by arcane powers, John is compelled to confront and command the very force he loathes. Follow his transformative journey as he rises from the ashes to become the ruler of flames—the Sovereign of Fire. Dive into a tale of loss, power, and redemption where John must master the element he fears most. ***** 1. In this world, power comes to those who strive for it. Our MC isn't handed strength on a silver platter; he earns it through blood, sweat, and unwavering determination. 2. If you're looking for constant face-slapping and petty rivalries, this isn't the story for you 3. Forget the harem trope

Den_of_wolves · ファンタジー
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30 Chs

Sanctuary in Ember

The caravan of Ember soldiers and refugees wound its way through the verdant countryside, the horses' hooves beating a steady rhythm against the packed earth. The air was thick with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the chirping of unseen birds. After days of traveling through desolate landscapes, the sight of rolling hills and lush fields was a welcome change.

For many of the children, this was their first experience of a true town. They had lived a nomadic life, their world defined by the confines of their caravan and the ever-changing landscapes they traversed. Wide-eyed, they gazed at the colorful stalls overflowing with exotic wares, the bustling crowds, and the impressive architecture that adorned the town square.

"Fresh bread!" Anya exclaimed, her nose twitching at the enticing aroma wafting from a nearby bakery. "And look, they have honey cakes!"

Darius, his mood much improved from the road, grinned. "I could eat a whole boar right now," he confessed, patting his stomach.

Cora, wide-eyed, clung to Anya's hand, taking in the vibrant scene. "It's so much bigger than I imagined!" she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

Even the adults couldn't help but be captivated by the lively atmosphere. Elara's stern face softened as she watched a group of children playing a game of tag in the town square.

Waed was drawn to a stall showcasing intricate wood carvings and gleaming metalwork. "I wonder if they have any new daggers," he mused, his fingers tracing the edge of the blade he carried at his hip.

Pyrrhus, however, remained wary. His senses, honed by years of hunting and fighting, were on high alert. He could feel the presence of powerful souls within the town, many of them bearing the mark of mages. While none of them came close to the forest saint or even Jonathan for that matter, there were quite a few of them.

"I don't feel safe here," he muttered to Anya, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of danger.

Anya squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I know, Pyrrhus," she said softly. "But we're here, for now. Let's try to enjoy it."

Their arrival didn't go unnoticed. Whispers followed them as they made their way through the square, led by Prince Lysander. Some of the townsfolk eyed them with suspicion, their expressions wary, while others simply stared with open curiosity.

Lysander, ever the gracious host, ushered them towards the castle, a sprawling edifice that dominated the town's skyline. The guards at the gate snapped to attention, their eyes lingering on Bram's scarred face and Jonathan's weathered features.

Inside the castle walls, the tension eased. The air was cool and fragrant, a welcome respite from the dusty road. Servants bustled about, their movements swift and efficient, attending to the needs of their unexpected guests.

Warm baths were drawn, soft beds prepared, and a feast fit for a king was laid out in the grand hall. The children, weary from their travels, perked up at the sight of roasted meats, steaming vegetables, and sweet pastries.

Even Bram, despite his reservations, allowed himself a small smile as he watched the children devour their food with gusto.

Later that evening, while the others enjoyed the festivities in the courtyard, Pyrrhus sought solace in the castle's vast library. He wandered through the towering shelves, his fingers trailing along the spines of leather-bound tomes. 

He pulled a pristine, leather-bound volume from a high shelf. The book looked well-maintained, and Pyrrhus assumed it must be a popular read. Upon opening it, incomprehensible script jumped out.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. He had forgotten that he was in a new world, with a new language, new customs, and new dangers. This was a glaring oversight, one he vowed to rectify as soon as possible.

"Lost, boy?" Jonathan's voice startled him. The old mage leaned on his walking stick, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Just researching a bit," Pyrrhus replied, holding up the book. "Thought I'd learn more about our hosts."

Jonathan chuckled, rapping Pyrrhus lightly on the head with his stick. "That's an adult's job," he chided gently. "You go out and enjoy yourself. Leave the worrying to us old folks."

Pyrrhus nodded and rushed out of the library.

As night fell, Lysander joined them in the courtyard, a goblet of wine in hand. He shared stories of Ember's past glories and current challenges, his voice warm and engaging.

"We are a proud people," he explained, "but we are not without our struggles. The Azure Kingdom to the north has been growing increasingly aggressive, and we must always be prepared for conflict."

Bram nodded solemnly. "We know all too well the dangers of war," he said.

Lysander continued, his eyes twinkling as he turned to Jonathan. "In Ember, we hold mages in high esteem. They are our scholars, our healers, our protectors. You, Jonathan, would find a welcoming home here."

Jonathan inclined his head in acknowledgment.

The conversation flowed late into the night, the flickering firelight casting long shadows on the stone walls. By the time they retired to their chambers, a sense of camaraderie had blossomed between the two groups.

Pyrrhus, exhausted but content, fell asleep nestled between his parents in what felt like the softest bed in the world. The next morning, sunlight streaming through the window woke him. He remembered the book from the library and, with a renewed determination, retrieved it from where he had left it and sought Anya

"Mom," he said, his voice filled with urgency, "can you read this?"

Anya, who was braiding Cora's hair, took the book and glanced at the cover. "Of course, dear," she replied with a smile. "Why do you ask?"

Pyrrhus hesitated, then blurted out, "Does Dad know how to read too?"

Anya's smile widened. "Yes, your father is quite the scholar. Why don't you ask him to teach you?"

Pyrrhus's heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He had never asked his father for anything before.

Mustering his courage, Pyrrhus found Darius in the courtyard, who awkwardly held a sword and swung it. He held out the book, his voice barely above a whisper. "Dad, can you teach me how to read this?"

Darius stopped mid-swing, his eyes widening in surprise. A warmth spread through him, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. This was the first time his son had asked him for anything, and it filled him with a sense of purpose he had long thought lost.

"Of course, son," Darius eagerly replied, his voice thick with emotion.

He knelt down, his eyes level with Pyrrhus's. "This is a wonderful book," he said, gently taking the volume and opening it. "It tells the history of Ember, a kingdom with a rich and fascinating past."

Pyrrhus leaned in, his eyes fixed on the strange symbols that now seemed less daunting, more like a puzzle waiting to be solved. Anya joined them, her heart swelling with pride as she watched her husband and son share this special moment. The morning sun bathed them in its golden glow, a symbol of hope and new beginnings.

*****

A/N:

Thanks for reading Chapter 28! I hope you're enjoying John's journey as Pyrrhus. Your comments and votes really motivate me to keep writing.

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