“As long as I have enough power, nothing will stop me!”

• Ethan Helldom

Ethan Helldom was of the Demons, a powerful race in the Felas continent of the Victacious realm. He lived for nearly two hundred years, being the third chosen of the Demonic race. In his past, he led a conniving and ambition-driven life as a powerful being in the Helldomius realm, but when he was summoned here, he knew that this plane if compared to his old realm, was like the ocean compared to the lake. Possibilities and opportunities were everywhere in this new world where vast and various methods within the libraries of each race are able to grant great potential to an individual. Even his own methodical system was improved by the vigorous energy in the atmosphere. Status, wealth, and women were obtainable given that one’s power is inextinguishable. And though rules still constrain him, it is as loose as water. He wanted it all, the power to defeat anything.  

Within a room, there laid ten thrones surrounding a round table. Each throne was engraved with magical gems and created with precious metals of various kinds. On the back seat of the thrones lies 10 different symbols that indicated their owners. A very detailed map of Felas and important documents covered the simple table in the middle. On that map were small glowing dots with grouped at the right side, top corner and north of the map. It represented the armies of the demons and the nation’s army. To the south of the borders were the Dark Elves and the West were the Orcs. Going further south-west, all three territories touch upon the human nation. Whereas, the symbol of a dragon’s head laid on a region bottom corner, southwest of the Humans. It symbolizes the Draconic race, the most worthy rival of the Demons. To the north of the Draconics is the Beastkin and the southeast is the Elves.

In total, there were thirty-six people within the room, yet only one out of ten were filled. One of the occupied seats had the symbol of scorpion beast that offered a terrifying image and glance could cause a normal person to shiver in fear for many nights. The man that sat on this throne had an apathetic face, a pair of peaceful and purplish eyes, red-tinged skin, ebony black hair with a mystical, purple jewel on his right ear. What was the most noticeable detail on his face was that there was a scar that ran down the from the forehead ended at his lips. If it wasn’t for that, he could’ve appeared as a normal, lethargic person that cared nothing of the world. He wore a reddish garment filled with words that seemed to radiate power and on his right breast hanged a scorpion badge. But his appearance fooled what laid behind the mask. Because Ethan Helldom is a person who would kill and backstab any who dares to defy him or disrupt his goals.

The thirty-six other people were discussing in hushed tones, not wanting to disturb this lord. They spoke about different plans, missions, and objectives while simulating figures on the map. Ethan rhythmically tapped his left fingers on his armrest impatiently while he held his head with his right arm. Without understanding his normal behaviours, many would think he was bored, but in reality, he was irritated. He abruptly stopped and stared at thirty-six other people surrounding the table, “Where are the others?”

A woman walked over. She had blonde hair and blue eyes face with a pale skin tone. a thin, metal band wrapped around her forehead with small jewels dangling. In her hand was a small booklet that seemed to like a report Her face looked calm, but in her eyes was the emotion of anxiety. In hurriedness, she looked down at the words on the booklet and spoke, “Sir, as you know the other six masters are in deep sleep-”

“I know that, Hailey!” Ethan exclaimed angerly, his face contorting into a scowl but a glint passed his eyes when he eyed the woman. “What I want to know is where the other two are!”

Hailey seemed flustered from the outburst and stuttered a bit from fear, “Si-Sir, the-the other two lords, master Luther and master Gavin, are on a mission, patrolling the Forbidden Areas in our lands.”

“What happened during my meditative seclusion? Are there any messages from them?”

“Yes, sir! Last I’ve heard of them was after the birth of the fourth chosen. They said that the magical beasts are acting weird lately, especially the ones near the Forbidden Lands. They’re not as aggressive than usual and are banding in groups to protect each other. There are reports of it happening in other forbidden areas of the other races' land.”

‘A magical beast surge,’ Ethan realized, ‘but one near the forbidden zones. It’ll be a massive one, a major calamity. But why now?’ Ethan held a crystal in his hand, his eyes trained on it. It was devoid of any splendour, light, or shine. If it was before, it would have some light within it, but it died out. Ethan then looked at Hailey, “Go and tell those two that the Humans have finally summoned there last chosen. All races have used up their slots and now the void is locked. Tell them that we need to further discuss our plans, especially for a possible upcoming calamity.”

“Yes, sir!”

As Hailey was about to exit, Ethan suddenly held his hand up high, signalling her to stop. “Hailey… Have you considered my offer? Resources, power, and status shall be in your hands. Join me!”

Hailey stood shivering in fright, but courage swelled up in her and calmed her body. “Sir Ethan, I’m sorry to say but I would like to stay within Lady Bethalin’s entourage.”

She then made a run for the exit. Ethan eyed her disappearing figure as anger and playfulness glinted in his eyes. ‘You want to play?’ He thought. ‘I’ll play with your game, but eventually, you’ll be mine. As long as I have enough power, nothing will control me! And my plan will let me gain what I want…’

Eight years later…

A child at the age of eight stood inside a room full of various tools and precious materials. His face is what should be a prince; he had platinum, short-cut hair, rosy high cheekbones surrounded by a palish tone of skin, and a pair of golden eyes that glimmered with intelligence. This child is Prince Joseph Algorith, the third prince of Zeatov, the human nation.

He stood in front of a desk where a small, squarish forcefield was pulsing with vigour, and there was an opening, a window that led towards a target, which was a five-inch sheet of a strong, rare and precious metal. Only powerful nobles or level seven and above mages and warriors would be able to use such metals as armour. Inside the containment was a barrel with a bullet of some sort that had a brass coloured case and a bluish tip, lodge it in. If one were to carefully examine the casing, there was a small inscription on it that ran vertically across the casing. The barrel, on the other hand, was strapped down on the table, vertically facing the opening of the forcefield. A hammer that resembled a gun's trigger was placed behind the bullet, and if it were to strike down, it would ignite the bullet.

“Day fifty-five, experiment three-hundred-sixty-nine of the level three bullet,” said Joseph as he wrote it down on a notebook in hand. “Firing in three, two, one…”

Bang!