Chapter 1: The End of the Road.

Ark exhaled, the air that left his lips thin and laced with minuscule droplets of blood that evaporated under the extreme heat of the active volcano.

At five-six with broad shoulders and tanned skin laden with scars, the blonde-haired man with piercing blue eyes was known as Ark Light.

A warrior summoned from a place called Earth to slay the Fell Phoenix and end the monster’s tyranny over mankind.

At least, that was what he was told before being shackled, branded, and made into a slave to fight for the Golden Throne of the Winterfell Empire.

Five years had passed since then.

Five years since he was whisked away from his cushy college life of partying and dnd.

Five years since he lost his parents, his girlfriend, and those he loved.

Five years of grueling combat and torturing of his mind and body.

Yet, the journey itself hadn't been all bad, despite the hardships of being in a foreign world, he wasn't alone.

He had companions, representatives selected by the countries of this world to be their champions against the monstrous scourge.

Behind him, Liliana Estelle, a raven-haired maiden of the Church of the Pyre of Heart. A no-nonsense priestess and capable healer from the sandy tides of the Sarcea Federation.

To his left, Merlin Maze, an arch-magus of the Magitech-Foundation. A brunette happy-go-lucky boy genius with affinity for all elements of magic and first to break into the seventh realm of magic at the ripe old age of twelve.

On his right, Alexios Tarduun, a stalwart half-giant of the Gyseria Mountain dwarf clans clad in fire-resistant adamantine armor. Contrary to popular media from earth, dwarfs in this world were tall, lumbering creatures known for their height, muscles, and fondness for holes.

And lastly, at the rear, leading dozens of battle-hardened knights that surrounded Ark, Prince Roland Von-Winterfell of the Holy Imperium. The same nation whose King had torn him from his world and decreed Ark a slave.

But now, he was ally and friend, a white-haired prince who sought to fight his own battles and be a noble that led by example.

“It's… over, Irelix is finally dead,” Liliana huffed, as she stood, bloodied and battered beside Ark to stare at the lifeless corpse of butchered black feathers and scores of simmering red mounds of pulsating flesh.

“Not yet,” Ark said as Merlin stepped forward, the boy’s voice splintered into various echoes whispering scores of incantations.

The young boy covered in injuries suddenly began to age rapidly, his fine brown hair growing long, his body elongating as his tattered robes shrunk, the consequences of harnessing chrono magic.

As colorful glyphs of the arcane hung in the air, the remains of the massive Fell Phoenix began to vibrate angrily, the fresh gore attempting to resist the young mage’s magic.

But alas, the will of the Phoenix couldn't contend with voices of the hundreds of magicians that used Merlin as their focus, offering their life force to seal the monstrosity’s command over time to prevent its resurrection.

A costly sacrifice, but a necessary one.

Ark stared at the skull of his kill, basking under the glow of a well fought victory. Soon his mission on this world would be over and he'd be able to return home. To see his family and to have the accommodations of a modern world.

Then the Phoenix moved, its one un-gouged eye snapping open to reveal a crimson iris that locked onto its killers.

Immediately Ark’s callous hand found the hilt of his longsword, the black armyrethium edge igniting with runic magic as its user prepared for battle.

Yet no battle came, instead the butchered black bird merely opened its cratered beak as an ominous presence filled the space.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

An attack? No, this was something different, something ancient, more akin to a ritual yet Ark felt no discernable touch of mana on his skin.

“Outworlder… with my passing,” Ireliex spoke, despite her head decapitated from the rest of her body, its feminine voice, even on her deathbed, sounded regal with the air of authority, “So too shall yours come to be, the fibers of our fates are intertwined into a tapestry-”

What remaining words the Fell Phoenix went to speak were cut short as Roland pierced the monster's skull with his spear.

“What do you think she meant by her words?” Liliana asked with grim concern.

A prophecy? Phoenix’s were known to be prophetic given their mastery of time, yet why would the Fell-being chose now to warn him?

“I don't know,” Ark replied as Liliana found his hand, the pair sharing a look of genuine care despite the differences of their stations.

Her emerald eyes shifted from his face to the obsidian collar around his neck. An attachment that would soon be gone once Roland ascended the throne. At least that was the deal.

“It merely meant to sow doubt and confusion, even in its deathtroes. You needn't listen to the perfidious rantings of an agent of ruin,” Roland said, pushing between the pair and handing Ark a red vial, “Here, a potion. I need you to keep your strength up just in case, don't want any surprises.”

“Thanks,” Ark uncorked the bottle, downing the contents so fast he didn't stop to take in the bitter taste or leafy aromatic scent.

Immediately he could feel strength course through his body, a renewed vigor that gave Ark relief.

“How long until the ritual is done?” Roland asked, his eyes focused on the massive feathered corpse.

“It's done, Ireliex can no longer resurrect,” Merlin rasped, the young boy now wearing the visage of an old man who nearly crumbled if not for Liliana rushing to catch him.

“Your life force is drained!” Liliana cried, raising the magician to stand on his feet, “Don't exert yourself. Roland, Ark, we need to get him to a chapel, his life signs are weak.”

“Why can't you heal him here?” Roland asked, drawing Ark's eyes to the man's hand resting on the hilt of his sword at his waist.

“I'm out of mana! Stop talking and help me!” Liliana spat.

“All conditions are fulfilled then,” Roland said as his sword came out, the silver weapon merely an inch away from Liliana’s neck.

“What are you doing?!” Ark hissed, his hand wrapped around the Imperial Prince’s wrist and preventing his attack.

“What needs to be done,” Roland spat as Ark’s eyes tracked the knights closing in.

Suddenly Ark’s strength began to wane, his eyes going wide as his collar lit up.

“You swore!” Ark yelled as he suddenly fell to his knees, his collar compelling his actions to obey the one who held his control rod.

“I lied,” Roland said before brandishing his sword at Merlin and Liliana.

“Alexios! Do something!” Ark yelled, turning to the giant who lay upon the floor still with twin cloaked figures standing above him.

Ark attempted to move, willed his power to heed his call yet instead of strength, blood flowed from his lips as his body began to shut down.

Poison? Ark could feel an insidious sensation course through his veins, a foreign substance masked by the healing potion offered to him by a friend.

“Stop! Roland! STOP!” Ark roared as Liliana attempted to flee, only to be caught by her hair and yanked back with Merlin collapsing onto the ash-laden ground.

Liliana spun, cutting her hair with a dagger and attempting to attack Roland who merely side-stepped her attack.

“Why?! After everything we've been through?!” Liliana cried, raising her hand to fire a bolt of mana yet falling short as Roland's blade easily severed her arm and pierced her heart.

“LILIANA!” Ark screamed, watching as his lover fell. “I’ll kill you!”

Ark suddenly found a surge of strength, his body pulsating with power as he rushed forward, blade in hand, screaming murder for the man who betrayed him.

“You'll do no such thing,” Roland said as he took a step back and several spears found Ark's body.

“W-why? You… promised to free me!” Ark gasped, hanging suspended by the knights who kept him away from their Prince. “Why betray us?! Liliana did nothing to you! We fought for you! Are you all okay with this?!”

Ark turned to the knights, the warriors he had fought beside, bleed with, and commanded remaining silent.

Roland paused, admiring Ark’s hardy constitution that enabled the skewered man to continue reaching out for him.

“With the Fell Phoenix dead, this world has no need of heroes,” Roland said, turning his back to Ark and moving towards Ireliex’s skull. “Especially one who would inspire the rabble to rise up. Make no mistake Ark, I intend to end slavery, but to do so now would throw the Imperium's economy into disarray. And your existence… Well, suffice to say, a populace deprived of their champions is a populace more easily controlled.”

Roland spun, blade in hand, “For what it's worth, you have my gratitude. Thank you… my friend.”

The edge of Roland's Fateslayer found Ark’s heart, the blade poking through his back.

“B-bastard… this life or the next!” Ark screamed, his movements propelled by rage as he broke several spears and reached out for Roland, “I will kill-!”

Then the world spun as Ark lost control of his body and his sight was one of that fixed upon the earth staring at the sky.

“Goodbye Ark, may you-”

Whatever words Roland said next were lost to Ark as his world darkened and his spirit passed.