webnovel

Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

สงคราม
Ongoing · 1.3M Views
  • 398 Chs
    Content
  • 4.4
    22 ratings
  • NO.200+
    SUPPORT
Synopsis

Bound in chains yet yearning for freedom, Alpheo, a modern historian, finds himself enslaved in a land on the brink of chaos. As the empire of Rolmia plunges into civil war following the death of the emperor , his three ambitious sons vie for the throne. In the midst of this turmoil, Alpheo finds the chance to break his chain and escape, leading his companions into the ashes of war, trying to thrive in it, selling their swords to the highest bidder . But beyond the borders of Rolmia, hungry eyes watch as the empire's grip loosens. The Sultanate of Azania, ever the opportunist, sees a chance to expand its domain and influence , while to the south, neighboring principalities breathe a sigh of relief as the once-dominant giant stumbles and falters. In the sea, the confederation of the Free Isle finds their chance to restore their old maritime power , denied to them by an empire that is now crumbling beneath itself , lacking the strenght to stop them. In this crucible of conflict, where dynasties crumble and empires fall, Alpheo find his call and the chance to forge his own destiny amidst the ashes of empires. ----------------

Tags
7 tags
Chapter 1Small men have great shadows(1)

"Four men at each gate, three at each tower. Two gates, eight towers."

The young man muttered the words under his breath, his voice barely audible over the faint hiss of grain shifting in the heavy sack slung across his frail shoulders. Each step sent waves of agony through his body, reopening the wounds that crisscrossed his back, their sting amplified by the coarse, sweat-soaked fabric of his tattered shirt.

The lashings were not the worst part. The searing pain of the whip lasted only moments; it was the lingering ache, the slow healing, and the humiliation that truly broke him.

He wasn't a king, nor a prince, nor even a free man. To those who commanded him, he was no more than a tool—a fragile, disposable thing that they could use until it breaks.

As he trudged toward the kitchen tent, the clamor of clashing steel and raised voices filled the air, the sounds of soldiers sharpening their blades and bickering over rations. His knees threatened to buckle, but he pressed on. A single misstep, a sack torn open, and he wouldn't survive the punishment, not again at least.

With a trembling hand, he pushed aside the tent's heavy flap. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of boiling meat and stale bread. The cooks and camp followers shot him scornful looks as he entered, their eyes full of disdain. But none moved to stop him, not with the weight of the sack behind him.

He knew their hatred well.

"A second mistake, and they'll toss my corpse to the dogs ,they won't even bother burying me" he thought bitterly, their glares burning into his back.

A raspy, high-pitched voice soon cut through the din.

''Make sure not to break a second one, or I'll swear on the gods you won't ever make another mistake. "

The voice belonged to Virvana, the head cook, a towering woman with a scowl that could curdle milk. Her greasy, unkempt hair clung to her damp forehead, and her eyes glinted with cruelty as she referred to the sack he broke that morning, which earned him the lashes that were burning his back at the moment.

Alpheo bowed his head, biting back the retort that danced on his tongue.

Kind as a lion and as beautiful as a cockroach, he thought darkly, his lips curling in a bitter smile.

Lowering the sack to the ground with aching arms, he glanced at her once—just once—before turning to leave.

I wonder if she'd be gentler after a good fuck. Or does she eat everything but cock?

The thought made him laugh bitterly as he stepped back into the sun, but he quickly stifled the sound. Laughter drew attention. Attention brought punishment.

The sun beat down relentlessly, its rays blinding him as he squinted against the light. He stared at his hands—rough, calloused, scarred, with nails jagged and dirty. Blisters and untreated cuts marred his fingers, evidence of years of unending toil.

For a fleeting moment, he let himself remember.

Five years. Five years since peace had slipped through his fingers. He laughed humorlessly at the irony of it. Back then, I thought it was hell. Now I know better. That was heaven compared to this.

His back throbbed with each labored breath, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. He had once known luxury: a warm bed, a loving family, a life of learning. He had been a student—history his passion. Stories of kings, conquerors, and wars had fascinated him. There was something magnetic about tales of men who rose above their station, of heroes and villains etched into eternity.

But no one sang songs for slaves. No one wrote stories for the nameless who suffered and died in silence.

Alpheo clenched his fists. He had once lived in a city that never knew hunger, where friends and entertainment were plentiful. Now, those days felt like a distant dream, stolen by cruel fate.

When death finally claimed him—and it surely would—no one would mourn.

They sold me for three silver coin, he thought, his mind spiraling back to that day. He had been a farmer's son then, born into poverty but still not despair. His parents were humble. He had never known the whip, never tasted the cruelty of man's worst instincts.

That peace had ended when the slavers came.

They weren't invaders, not in the traditional sense. They came with silver coins in hand, not swords. They bought lives as casually as one might purchase livestock.

For the fifth son of a poor family, the price of freedom was a single silver coin.

He was nine—perhaps ten—when they took him, a thin boy with too many brothers and not enough food to go around. The three coins sealed his fate, and with it, his world collapsed.

Five years of toil had followed. Five years of pain, degradation, and hopelessness. All that remained were the scars—on his back, his hands, and his soul.

As the sun continued to bear down, he lifted his head, his gaze unfocused. He had loved history once. Now, he wondered: Who weeps for the forgotten? Who remembers the soldier who dies nameless? The slave who suffers unseen?

Alpheo shook his head, forcing himself to move. His musings wouldn't fill his stomach or ease the lash's bite.

If I ever escape this hell, he vowed silently, I'll make sure the world remembers.

But for now, the world didn't care. 

His name was Alpheo—a mythical name, though its significance was lost on him. It was a strange name, and the fate of the one who bore it was stranger still. If he had to choose one word to summarize his second life, it would be "pet." Like a mere animal, his existence had been defined by the whims of those who bought and sold him.

He had lived in many homes, passed from one master to the next, each a new chapter of misery. His first master had been a nobleman, a man who saw value in him not as a person but as an object of entertainment for his young son. The boy had adored Alpheo's stories—tales woven with wit and imagination, his voice a balm to the child's boredom.

For a brief moment in his life , Alpheo thought the worst was over. But the boy soon grew bored of his stories, too. He found new distractions, and Alpheo's purpose in that household ended. He was sold again, a transaction as simple and thoughtless as the trade of a loaf of bread.

By the time he was twelve, he had been sold to a soldier, his new role that of a camp follower. This life, too, was merciless. He cleaned, carried, fetched,starved—always the lowest of the low. When the soldier who owned him died in battle, Alpheo became the property of the military camp his master served in.

In this endless cycle of servitude, Alpheo learned to survive. He mastered the art of appearing weak and submissive. Meekness became his armor, and pain his constant companion. He knew the sting of whips, the crack of fists, the bruises that never fully healed.

Yet, through it all, he never forgot who he was. He clung to the fragments of his identity, his dreams, his desires.

He wanted freedom.

It was such a simple thing—a life where his will was his own, where he could walk unchained, where no one's hand would rise against him unless he raised his first. Yet, it seemed so impossibly distant.

But the fire in his heart refused to die.

He didn't just want freedom for the sake of peace. No, Alpheo dreamed of bringing steel and fire to this world. He wanted to be the storm, the force that others feared, the master of his own fate.

They saw him as weak, as a tool to be used and discarded. But one day, they would see him as he truly was: a tempest waiting to be unleashed.

You May Also Like

Mercenary System: I can increase innate potential !

All of a sudden, various watches appeared out of nowhere in different parts of the world. These locations were quickly controlled by various organizations, and then the marketing of the watches was strictly controlled. Why was this? Because these watches gave access to a unique world: Eternity! Eternity functioned more or less like an open-world game with a single-player mode, except that Eternity was a game where you could actually die! By joining Eternity, everyone awakened a unique talent. This talent helped unlock the first classes, which allowed you to strengthen your physique both in Eternity and in the real world! Not to mention the various skills and talents available... And above all, there was the legend that it was possible to become immortal thanks to Eternity! It was with the aim of changing his destiny that Maxime trained his whole life in swordplay, and for many years saved his meagre salary to obtain one of these famous watches! Watch his rise in the real world thanks to Eternity! ------- Author's note : Trust me, the more the story progresses, the more you'll love it, to the point where you won't be able to put it down :) No harem. Chapter release: 1 chs/day. (approximately 1650 words) Since chapter 104, chapters have been at least 1500 words, often 1600/1700 words and at most 2000 words. Currently 202 chapters for 302k words. To find out more, to discuss, to give feedback, if you want to add certain things in the story, everything is possible here : https://discord.gg/mkbF4WtMp7

Kasuma · สงคราม
Not enough ratings
202 Chs

Lord Raven's Court

In the year 556 of the Runtallian Calendar, a war broke out in the eastern frontier of the Kingdom of Runtallia between the eastern overlord, Duke Gaverone Walruse of Regalia, and the barbarian chief-thane known as Dariun Drunzelle of the Shiradonii tribe, one of the Four Great Tribes of Norsmund, a nation that borders the Kingdom, deemed to be the land of brutes and savages. As the Duke of Regalia marches with his army to defend the disputed land of Kurlon, the barbarians have taken such an opportune moment to launch another incursion near the eastern border of Regalia near the town of Flendle, with the intention of dividing his army. However, despite accepting the town and the surrounding local lords' territories as lost cause in the war in favor of Kurlon– a newly discovered territory bountiful with veins of iron and other minerals– the Duke tasks his third son, Lord Velmund Walruse, along with his retinue, the Order of the Raven Knights, to fend off the attack. Now faced with the plight of defending the border town against a 5,000-strong Norsmundi army with his few yet skilled knights, along with an ill-equipped and undermanned militia, Lord Velmund has no choice but to fulfill his duty as a noble, relying upon his wits and his few but capable retainers to survive his first battle at the tender age of sixteen summers and winters. Contrary to his timid, youthful, and innocent appearance, however, lies his sly and scheming nature, evident by his fondness of dark magical arts specializing in illusion spells. Nevertheless, he himself has no idea of what he is capable of, and what he is destined to become. Meanwhile, further east at the frontier with Norsmund, a plot hatches to ensnare the Duke within the clutches of his treacherous vassals. Not only his life is threatened by these schemes, but his sons Theo and Varus as well. With this scheme put into motion, the Duke and Velmund's siblings, Varus and Theo, would taste fate's twisted humor, with the former meeting his demise in a blaze of glory amidst the field of battle, and the latter two vanishing in incidents shrouded by mysteries. With the death of the patriarch of Regalia and his heirs' disappearance, the young lord who was initially third in line for the succession of the ducal seat became its temporary occupant. And thus, the tale of him and his court begins… CHAPTER RELEASE: January 1st at 12:00 UTC

SlothfulChronicler · สงคราม
4.8
201 Chs

Lord of Caldera

In a world where kingdoms rise and fall, a seasoned player unexpectedly finds himself transmigrated into the very game he once mastered—Caldera. However, his new life as a ruler comes with a crushing twist: severe debuffs and harsh restrictions on his talents make survival nearly impossible. Against overwhelming odds, he fights tooth and nail to carve out a legacy. Despite his brilliance in strategy and marvels in combat, failure becomes his ultimate fate. But fate offers him another chance. Reborn at the start of the game, now without the crippling debuffs and armed with all the knowledge, experience, and hard-won lessons of his previous life, he faces the world anew. This novel is a bit fast-paced compared to current mainstream trends. It will delve into human nature and how far people are willing to go for meager profit. Most characters will be evil, and even the good ones only appear good because the actions they take align with their own interests, rather than being motivated by true goodness. For any questions about this novel, feel free to leave a comment on my first review, where I will be answering any inquiries or questions regarding the story. I hope you have a great time reading this! If you’d like to support this novel, please rate it or leave any kind of comment or join my studio over at discord where we have a dedicated space to Lord of Caldera Fans: https://discord.gg/b3f4gQ8v6h Any feedback will help it gain more exposure. Thank you! I will be posting this story on RoyalRoad.com as well although only free chapter just like here. if you read on both platforms and like the novel do leave me some review there as well thank you. https://www.royalroad.com/profile/569643/fictions

Aurora22 · สงคราม
4.8
349 Chs

ratings

  • Overall Rate
  • Writing Quality
  • Updating Stability
  • Story Development
  • Character Design
  • world background
Reviews
Liked
Newest
MattigicianLv4
WetDogLv14
Ridwan_Nugroho_0749Lv1

SUPPORT

6 top fans
gift received4
  • WetDogGifted Spacecraft
  • WetDogGifted Inspiration capsule
  • WetDogGifted Ice cola
  • WetDogGifted Inspiration capsule
  • Some_guy26Gifted Pizza
  • Tshering_Sherpa_2122Gifted Pizza
  • nameyelusGifted Pizza
  • nameyelusGifted Pizza
  • thongahGifted Ice cola
  • nameyelusGifted Ice cola
  •  Ice cola10
  • Pizza50
  • Inspiration capsule100
  • Massage chair500
  • Luxury car1000
  • Dragon2000
  • Magic castle5000
  • Spacecraft10000