Night had come. As the last rays of sunlight left the night sky, Valkorath knelt in front of Aurora, asking her to marry him with a forced smile.

He had no love for her. He had pretty much never even loved anyone—not his ailing father, whom he gleefully abandoned, and not his dead mother. It was even debatable to claim that he loved himself. There was only one thing he loved: power.

He might not have loved Aurora, but she was a very necessary stepping stone, one he had to take in order to get his true love: "POWER." The foolish noblewoman gleefully said yes.

Her father had given Valkorath his blessing, seeing him as a son. And his foolish daughter had fallen head over heels for Valkorath. But who could blame her? He seemed like the sweetest man in the world. He was internally a vile psychopath but hid that and was a very sweet and kind man to everyone.

Valkorath was a god among men. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and powerful in appearance. He had a face so beautiful even women envied it. He had beautiful blue eyes and short-cut silver-gold hair.

He was very charismatic and commanding. Born without any titles, he had worked his way up in life, becoming a Knight and eventually becoming a nobleman by order of the King. However, not even that could satisfy his greed and hunger for power.

He wanted more—not just the kingdom he was in, but the other nine kingdoms as well. He wanted the world. Why? There was no reason why. He did not want to bring peace or restore order. He had zero plans or love for the world. All he had was his immense, insatiable greed for power. That was all he needed to make him want the entire world.

He married Aurora for one reason: he needed her in order to get the Kingdom. Valkorath had a plan. He was going to marry the King's daughter, murder the King, kill his heirs, take the Kingdom, and then use the Kingdom's army in conquering the other nine Kingdoms. With all that done, he would become Emperor. That was his dream, and nothing would stop him from achieving it.

The King, however, refused to let him marry any of his daughters. He claimed Valkorath was not even a noble; he had made him one. If Valkorath was to even have a chance, he had to marry an actual noblewoman. Then, he could take a daughter of the King as his second bride. He had a noblewoman now. He smirked as Aurora said yes. He knew in his heart that he had won.

He had married into the richest noble house. Not only had he done that, but he had married the only daughter of the head of the noble house. Not only were they the richest, they controlled over half the percentage of the King's army. Other soldiers could be bought too. If something unfortunate happened to his father-in-law, he would be a man second only to the King.

This time, if the King refused him, he could just rebel and take the crown. He was beloved by both the noblemen and the common folk. Both sets of people hated the King. He was corrupt, fat, and weak—a dog among men. The only right he had to the throne was his birthright.

He was unworthy in every other regard. Not only was he a useless man, he was an even worse King. He feared the other Kings and ceded land and resources to them in order to avoid conflict since, by law, the King had to fight in all wars.

The King was a sad mess of a human. He looked awful, massively overweight—you could even say he was obese. His ample jowls sagged, accompanied by rings of fat around his neck. His eyes were dull and protruding.

He was also very ugly. Not only was his face fat as hell and looked like it was sliding off his skull, he had very large eyes, nose, and lips. He crowned all of this by being a man-baby. Not only was he a man-baby, he married a new wife barely every week, younger each week. That didn't stop him from having many concubines and still cheating on all of them. He was a man unworthy of the life the gods had blessed him with.

Aurora embraced Valkorath. She had loved him ever since she saw him the day he was knighted. She had loved him even more when he became a member of the King's guard.

Why wouldn't she? He was a respectable man. He built himself up from nothing. He also had an appearance that would make even angels jealous. She had fantasized about him. She wanted him. She needed him. And now, here he was, all hers.

She was beautiful, desired by many, but her heart desired only one. Soon enough, wedding plans began. Her father, Lord Martell of House Emre, was going to outdo himself for this wedding. His only child was getting married. To him, it was a very important moment for his family.

It must be a wedding that couldn't be rivaled by any other wedding. That was what happened—a wedding that had guests from all over the world, a wedding that raged on for days, a wedding that could be compared to a feast of the gods, a wedding truly befitting of nobility.

A year passed, and Valkorath was now a father of twins. However, a year was not the only thing that passed. Lord Martell was also now rotting in his grave. Lord Valkorath had inherited his riches and properties. At this point in time, the King had done well enough to gain more haters with his incompetence.

Now, the Kingdom was fractured. A large amount of noblemen wanted a rebellion. The King was unfit to rule. His first son was fiercely loyal to him. However, his second son was utterly disgusted by him and had zero love for him.

People believed he would be a much better ruler. All they had to do was get Lord Valkorath on their side, and the King was done for.

*

NO! Lord Valkorath gleamed venomously at the King for the response the King gave him. How could he? How could the King refuse to marry off one of his daughters to him? How? Just how? What had he killed Lord Martell for? What had he married Aurora for?

He bowed to the King and stormed out of the palace. That was it. He would rebel. Once the king was dead and his second son had killed his first son, he would kill the second son and have his daughters killed.

He would then have a noble lay a claim to make him regent. It would be suggested in order to maintain order in the Kingdom in wake of the King's death.

Soon enough, plans were made for the rebellion. However, a nobleman, Lord Arnait, had informed the King of their plans. He was a lot more than prepared for what was to come.

A rebellion never came. Instead, all the noblemen who knew of this plot, including the King's informant, were rounded up and publicly beheaded for treason alongside the second son of the King.

Lord Valkorath was to have a very different future, though. The King knew how much he craved power. So, he gave him a punishment worse than death. If he had killed Valkorath now, he would have died an accomplished man. Instead, he was stripped of all titles and banished from the Kingdom, keeping only the clothes on his back. This deeply broke Valkorath, and in his deep, dark, evil heart, he swore revenge. This was not the end of this matter.

In a new land, Valkorath was now what he had been for most of his life—a nobody, an irrelevant living person. But he believed in himself. If he did it before, he could do it again. He was in the Kingdom of Arshaya. He believed strongly that with his combat skills, he could easily become a knight again. After enlisting to join the royal army and passing excellently, he knew it. He could do it again. He could build back the life he just lost. But could he?

The King of Arshaya summoned him to the castle on the day he was to be initiated into the royal army. He knew it in his heart. He was about to become a Knight and so soon.

Entering the castle, he saw elegance—elegance far better than any he had ever seen in his life, from the gold and red carpet designs to the throne worthy of a hundred Kings, a throne so beautiful that if any King sat on it, the King would be the one being honored, not the throne.

He saw the King, a young man, probably in his early thirties. He was tall and had the aura of kindness that masked deep cruelty. But it was there. You would know this man was capable of vile things. He had blue eyes, blonde hair, and wore a crown holding multiple gems of beautiful color. If anyone was worthy of being King, it was him. He looked everything like a King.

"KNEEL!" A man next to the King screamed at him, and Valkorath promptly knelt, bowing his head. One thing echoed through his thoughts: he had to have that crown. If anything in this world, he wanted that crown.

He should have it. It was too good to pass up. The King stood up, and everyone knelt before his majesty.

In a very strong, dark, and cold voice, he addressed Valkorath, refusing to address him with any respect. He addressed him as what he was—a traitor, or as the King put it, "TRAITOR VALKORATH."

The King had only one message for him—just one: there was no room in his Kingdom for a traitor. He was to now go to the Island of Snakes, an island where traitors were banished. Valkorath scoffed in horror.

The Island of Snakes was exactly what it sounded like: an island of snakes, but not just snakes as in traitors. Actual venomous snakes existed on that island of forests and death.

Let's not forget the fact that there were literally no fruit trees there, just useless trees and deadly snakes. So, you had to eat snakes to survive until one bit you and you died.

Not to worry, you could barely take a step without stepping in a nest of snakes. So, you were surely going to die a very painful and lonely death. But not to worry, you would die amongst snakes—not just the poisonous snakes, but traitors like yourself.

Valkorath was beyond horrified. He had not come here for this. He was here to become a knight. He could not just die without anything to his name. He couldn't have lived his entire life for nothing. Was he going to die just like that?

He was a nobody being sent to be bitten to death by snakes. He began to have a panic attack as these thoughts ran through his head. Was this really the end for him?

He thought to himself that if this was going to be the end for him, it was to be on his own terms. He brought out a knife and tried to slit his throat while crying and gasping hysterically like a defeated man—a sight truly unbefitting of the great Lord Valkorath, a god among men.

Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, for Lord Valkorath, if he was to die, it was not today, at least not in that moment. Before his knife could reach his throat in his hysteria, the hilt of another man's sword touched the back of his head, and he simply passed out.

In the land he had come from, a prophecy had been received from the gods: in less than a year, the father of dragons will sit on every throne in the world. Why, why would it be at this time A PROPHECY COMES..........