《Clarenden: Book 1: Syrax Delivion》 Prologue: Blood and Ash Three colossal continents lost in oblivion: Veirenden ¡ª a realm of eternal frost and ruthless cold. Kraice ¡ª scorched land, a never-ending desert of fire and bone. And Clins ¡ª wild and unpredictable, with its mountains, jungles, forests, and every savage breath between. Right now, Clarenden is being torn apart by what people call ¡°The War of a Thousand Years¡± ¡ª or simply, ¡°The War of Three Kings.¡± Three kingdoms. Three crowns. Three ancient bloodlines too proud to bow, too stubborn to share land with the bastards next door. And so, the war drags on. 1,076 years of endless fucking fire. At the top of each realm sits a house of legacy and blood: ? House Veirenden ¡ª icy rulers of the North. ? House Vermont ¡ª wild kings of Clins. ? And House Richstone ¡ª the eternally rich pricks who reign over Kraice, drowning in gold and arrogance. And in the middle of all this ¡ª while another thousand-strong horde from the North marches south to torch the sands of Kraice ¡ª a little girl named Lyria Veirenden, barely nine years old, sneaks into the woods with her best friend Selissa de Morvy (the daughter of one of the North¡¯s loyal vassals). Their destination? Mushroom Glade. Their ritual? Chaos, giggles, and childish freedom. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Once they reach the clearing, Lyria throws down a checkered blanket, pulls out a warm bun, a few pies, and a bottle of freshly squeezed apple juice from her little woven basket. They sit. They smile. And they play their favorite game ¡ª a tea party. Innocent. Pure. And about to be shattered. Lyria: ¡°Would you care for a cup of tea, Lady Selissa?¡± Selissa (tilting her head with a soft grin): ¡°It would be my honor, Lady Lyria.¡± The forest was¡­ too quiet. No birdsong. No wind. Just the dry crackle of twigs beneath their feet ¡ª and the ragged breath of two little girls lost in a world too cruel for them. ¡°Lyria¡­¡± Selissa froze. ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Something stepped out of the shadows. Not a bear. Not a dog. A wolf. Massive. Not gray. Not brown. Black. As the fucking void. Eyes glowing amber. Rabid. It moved slow. Reluctant. But it kept coming. ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± Lyria whispered. But it was already too late. Selissa stepped back ¡ª snap. The beast lunged. Everything went red. A splash of blood. A scream torn in half. A shadow slamming the earth. Lyria screamed like her soul had been ripped in two. She crawled to her friend ¡ª but Selissa was already gone. All that was left: a little shoe, a broken arm, and terror frozen in lifeless eyes. ¡°I¡¯m here¡­ I¡¯m with you¡­¡± Lyria sobbed, cradling the corpse. The wolf vanished. And with it ¡ª half of her heart. She ran. Blind. Tears weren¡¯t in her way ¡ª they were her breath now. Through the trees ¡ª silhouettes. Men. A fire. Laughter like gravel in hell. Lyria tried to sneak past the camp¡­ But fate snapped under her foot like a dry branch. ¡°HEY! Someone¡¯s out there!¡± Darkness. Rough hands gripped her like steel traps. She struggled ¡ª useless. One slammed her to the ground, the other crushed her wrist with his boot. ¡°Well, well¡­ Look what we¡¯ve got here¡­ A dirty little princess.¡± The voice oozed filth. And glee. She felt her breath tearing apart inside her. Like her lungs were shattering. Her body frozen. Paralyzed by fear. But something inside¡­ was fucking burning. ¡°Touch me¡­ and I¡¯ll rip your throat out with my teeth.¡± She hissed through clenched teeth ¡ª not begging. Threatening. ¡°Well, well¡­ Got some fire in you, don¡¯t you¡­¡± CRACK. A fist. Ribs. Pain stabbed through her side like a spear of lightning. The world blurred ¡ª bent sideways. And then ¡ª chaos. CRASH. SCREAMS. STEEL TEARING INTO FLESH. Hell. Unleashed. Silence. Lyria, broken and shaking, looked up. Mud on her face. Blood on her hands. Pain in every breath. Before her stood a shadow ¡ª drenched in black, blade dripping crimson. He didn¡¯t smile. He didn¡¯t offer comfort. He just stared down at her. ¡°Next time ¡ª don¡¯t be alone.¡± He turned. And vanished like a fucking ghost. She lay there. Alive. But not the same. Never again the same. Chapter II: The Nameless Ghost (A coward sits the throne, while the warrior lurks in the shadows) The stranger lifted the shattered body of Lyria in his arms, carrying her gently through the woods ¡ª toward the walls of Snowsoul. He passed straight through the guards, past their stunned faces. A black cloak, a lowered hood, a girl wrapped in a bloodstained blanket. He entered the throne room without asking. Walked right up to King Gridger, dropped the blanket at his feet. Inside it ¡ª the girl. Still breathing. Still broken. King Gridger: ¡°What happened?!¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Stranger: ¡°Rape. Of the innocent. Of the helpless.¡± King Gridger (pointing at the blanket): ¡°Get this disgrace out of my sight!¡± King Gridger: ¡°And you ¡ª stranger ¡ª why the hell would you save her?¡± Stranger: ¡°Because as long as cowards like you exist, men like me will have to shield the innocent. Since you can¡¯t seem to do it yourself.¡± King Gridger: ¡°How dare you, you son of a bitch?¡± Stranger: ¡°I dare because I see right through you ¡ª You¡¯re just another coward playing king, Trying to act tough in a world you can¡¯t handle.¡± King Gridger: ¡°Brave words, fool. Let¡¯s see what you say when you¡¯re in chains.¡± (he nods at the guards) They move. Big mistake. Two heartbeats later ¡ª they¡¯re both choking on their own blood, throats slashed wide open. Their weapons never even left the sheath. King Gridger: ¡°What the¡­?!¡± Stranger: ¡°You really thought you had the right to shackle me, dumbass?¡± King Gridger: ¡°What are you?¡± Stranger: ¡°I¡¯m the one you already fear¡­ but just haven¡¯t admitted it yet. Start digging your grave, Gridger ¡ª Next time you act like a king, make sure you¡¯re not a fucking joke.¡± He pulled down his hood. Beneath it ¡ª a man too perfect to be real. Chiseled jaw. Eyes like a god. A warrior so intimidating, Gridger mentally pissed himself. But the idiot didn¡¯t learn. He summoned his top assassins ¡ª Gave the order: ¡°Find him. Kill him. Bring me his head.¡± What he didn¡¯t know¡­ Was that this moment would go down as the single biggest mistake of his pathetic little life. Chapter III: Steel and Pain (You haven¡¯t shown your full strength yet, but they all know¡ªyou¡¯re worthy.) It¡¯s been four years since that day in the throne room. The war keeps dragging on¡ªno shift in tactics, no clear winner. Even the common folk are stunned. Too many bodies. Too much blood. Too little sense. King Gridger thinks of him every damn day. That stranger. That calm, cold look. That inhuman power. Lyria, now blooming into a young woman¡ªalmost fourteen¡ª still can¡¯t shake off that forest¡­ and the man who saved her. As expected, the four mercenaries sent to hunt the stranger down? Never came back. A grey, dull day. Lyria walks out with a basket of warm pastries¡ªfresh from the oven. She walks to her brothers. Scum in noble clothes. Lyria (offering the basket): A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°Help yourselves.¡± Kris Veyrenden (her brother, knocks the basket out of her hands): ¡°What are these? Cooked with those ugly little hands again?¡± Lyria: ¡°No¡­ the chef made them. I just thought I¡¯d do something nice¡ª¡± Aaron Veyrenden: ¡°Nice things happen in brothels. We don¡¯t need pity from a defiled little princess.¡± Lyria: ¡°Maybe I am defiled¡­ but at least I don¡¯t get lectured by whores for having a ¡®small¡­¡¯¡± Aaron: ¡°You got a death wish, you bitch?¡± Aaron slaps her. Hard. She hits the ground, curled up, wheezing. Kris kicks her in the gut. Kris: ¡°Talk back again and next time we won¡¯t stop at bruises.¡± He raises his hand for one final strike¡ª But it never lands. A hand catches his mid-swing. Fast. Clean. Silent. In two moves, Kris is laid out cold on the ground. Aaron: ¡°What are you, suicidal? Think you¡¯re tough or something?!¡± He lunges. The stranger shifts once¡ªAaron¡¯s flying through the air, crashing flat on his ass. Lyria didn¡¯t even see the motion. Just the result. Stranger: ¡°Hitting girls? Let me guess¡ªyou kill old folks too?¡± He turns to Lyria. Offers a hand. Stranger: ¡°Get up. They¡¯re the ones who belong in the dirt.¡± Lyria (brushing herself off): ¡°Why¡¯d you help me? I¡¯m the royal joke around here.¡± Stranger: ¡°These pastries are still warm. I¡¯d like to try one, if my lady permits.¡± Lyria: ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Stranger: ¡°Nothing. I helped because I wanted to. And I¡¯m in Snowsoul¡­ to deliver a message to your father.¡± Lyria¡¯s eyes trail to the sack over his shoulder. Thick red liquid is dripping from it. It¡¯s not jam. Lyria: ¡°My father¡¯s in his chambers¡­ in the castle.¡± Stranger: ¡°My thanks, princess.¡± He walks off. Calm. Silent. And Lyria finally realizes¡ª That was him. The one from the forest. And he¡¯s not here for words. He¡¯s here for judgment. For justice. For blood. She tries to chase after him¡ª But he¡¯s already gone. Like the ground swallowed him whole. A day later¡­ Snowsoul and the entire northern kingdom were in shock. And no one dared say his name out loud. Chapter IV: The Will of Blood (Find an enemy of your size and title¡­) The king sits, already half-drunk, in front of him, that same stranger. Gridger: ¡°Did you come to kill me?¡± Stranger: ¡°No, but with your lifestyle, I thought you¡¯d kill yourself long ago.¡± Gridger: ¡°Then why are you here?! You should have been dead a long time ago!¡± Stranger: ¡°I should have, but I¡¯m still alive, because none of your shadows can defeat me. It¡¯s like trying to put out water with fire ¨C impossible.¡± Gridger: ¡°What¡¯s in the bag? Poison? A hidden dagger?¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Stranger: ¡°No, just more proof of your uselessness.¡± The stranger empties the bag, spilling a mound of severed heads ¨C the assassins the king had sent over the years. Stranger: ¡°All your dogs fell by my hand. No one even saw me coming. And you know what¡¯s the sweetest part? The fact that you still see death in me.¡± Gridger: ¡°I know I¡¯ll die, maybe today, and maybe by your hand.¡± Stranger: ¡°Right you are, because I am the fist of vengeance, the one who isn¡¯t afraid to decide the fates of those who became the cause of others¡¯ suffering. I don¡¯t bring death, I bring those very scales of justice that weigh every soul, and you won¡¯t escape my punishment. You will just add to the list of those killed by your fate.¡± Gridger: ¡°So what are you waiting for? You¡¯ve already proven you¡¯re stronger than everyone, so prove your bloodlust too!¡± Stranger: ¡°I am bloodthirsty only towards those who¡¯ve earned it by their actions.¡± Gridger: ¡°Then take my whore-daughter and get the hell out of my kingdom!¡± Stranger: ¡°Your daughter is stronger than anyone I¡¯ve ever seen, and you don¡¯t deserve a single drop of her from your rotten soul.¡± The stranger raises his sword, forged from Valyrian steel, and¡­ chops off Gridger¡¯s crown ¨C the crown of the King of Snow and Ice. Stranger: ¡°You are not worthy of wearing the crown, Gridger. I¡¯ll spare your life, but only to make sure I punish you fully when you slip up again.¡± Gridger (pointing at the guards): ¡°KILL HIM! RIGHT NOW!¡± Six guards rush forward, their strikes too predictable. The stranger, already behind them, delivers a counterattack with lightning speed, like a snake playing with its prey before devouring it. After each blow, a powerful counterattack, as fast as lightning. The fight lasted less than twenty seconds, and Gridger didn¡¯t even know what hit him ¨C that¡¯s how fast and deadly the stranger was¡­ Gridger: ¡°You monster¡­¡± Stranger: ¡°No, I¡¯m just the one who makes it clear that you¡¯re not all-powerful.¡± ¡°Live as long as you can, but remember, it won¡¯t be for long¡­ If you dare touch my daughter again, I¡¯ll rip your filthy heart from your chest, as if I¡¯m about to eat a pear.¡± Gridger: ¡°This is not the end!¡± Stranger: ¡°I know¡­¡±