Arceus' Pirate Journey - Chapter 5: ember

What happens when you survive seven hellish years on an alien planet in the ultimate battle of the strongest in the universe—as a human?What happens when you give everything you have and more to defeat the final boss in a battle to the death… only to wake up the next second, back at day one?Going through it all over again?But something is wrong.The game in his hands isn’t Nyxfall 6: Dark End, the world he spent over seven years surviving. It’s Nyxfall 7: The Veilbreakers—the next installment.He won? So now he’s been given another game to play?And he’s not alone. There are others like him in every alien civilization. This time, it’s not just survival—it’s about who can lead their people best.That is… if they even care about their people at all.Why bother leading at all? With everything they have learned, why not exploit the system, amass unimaginable wealth, and live like a king in a game that pays in real money?

Derek Carter never asked for a System, an apocalypse, or the pressure of being humanity’s so-called “last hope.”He was just trying to survive the daily struggles of being an orphan in Paleview City—dodging bullies, scraping together meals, and lying his way into school. Life was already hard enough.Then, one day, a blue screen pops into his vision:[Warning: The world is doomed. Try not to die.]Yeah, great. Just what he needed—cryptic doomsday messages and no instruction manual.Now, monsters are creeping into the city, reality is unraveling, and Damien’s “legendary” starting stats are barely above zero. The System promises him power, but there's just one tiny problem—he’s never won a fight in his life.Armed with sarcasm, questionable decision-making skills, and the sheer refusal to die, Damien is about to embark on the worst (and possibly last) adventure of his life. Because if the world really is ending… he’s at least going to make it someone else’s problem first.After all, heroes are overrated—survivors get to tell the story.

[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.