Novels by Triple A

"My king, I want to adopt this boy, Ikenna, as my son."—-You could hear a pin drop in the courtroom as everyone stared wide-eyed and mouth agape at Obinna. No one had expected this from the general—not even his brother Onyeka or Ikenna, the boy in question. Onyeka’s one good eye looked like it was going to pop out of its socket, and his mouth hung wide open in shock. "What! Why would you do that?" Onyeka asked aloud. Ikenna stared up at Obinna in surprise, awaiting his response. The entire courtroom awaited his answer, and they didn’t have to wait long. "Your Majesty, as you well know, my wife died during childbirth with my daughter, and the gods have not blessed me with another wife. I need a son to carry on my legacy," Obinna said. "If it’s a son you need, Obinna, why don’t you take concubines like the rest of us? Any one of them can easily give you a son," the king asked. "My wife’s death still haunts me, my king. I can’t imagine having another woman in my bed. Beside

Seeing Ikenna standing before the king when other kids were still kneeling shocked everyone, still Obinna couldn’t help the small smirk that appeared on his face as he was once again impressed by the boy foolish bravery.“How dare you!” One of the chiefs closest to the king yelled.“How dare a worm, stand before our king!,” the man continued with a furious look, as he stepped forward to approach Ikenna.“That’s enough Amaobi,” the king waved it off with a smile. Ezeibe had to admit he too was impressed and intrigued by the boy, where others knelt and trembled in fear, he stood defiant, and his unique looks also captured the king's attention. His white dreadlocks and lightning pattern scars were something he’d never seen before. “He is just a child and does not know our customs,” the king said with a benevolent smile. “I am sorry for this incident, my king,” Obinna said with a small bow. “ I promise it will never repeat itself again,” he promised.“It better not happen again Obinna,

Tall red walls stretched as far as the eye could see, built from hardened earth and reinforced with stone, wood, and iron. The walls towered high, crowned with sharp stakes at the top. Thick wooden gates, carved with intricate patterns, stood proudly at the entrance, guarded by soldiers in gleaming armor.Ikenna slowed his steps behind the carts, his cloudy eyes widening as he took in the grandeur. Even he, who rarely showed emotion since his mother’s death, couldn't hide his astonishment. The walls were like nothing he had ever seen before—sturdy, unyielding, and majestic. Only the gods could bring down such walls.The wall wasn't just high; it was also wide and thick enough to accommodate soldiers patrolling on top. As they walked past the gates, he saw wooden and clay steps built into the walls, allowing soldiers to move up and down easily."Is this... all for one kingdom?" Chizaram whispered beside him, her voice filled with wonder."It must be," Ikenna muttered. "No village needs

Onyeka stood before the villagers with a face as cold as stone. His single eye, sharp and calculating, scanned the crowd. He saw no people—only problems to be solved and tasks to complete. "Line up the children," he ordered, his voice hard. "We move now." The soldiers wasted no time. Mothers clung to their children, crying. Fathers glared and quivered in silent rage, but no one dared challenge Onyeka. The soldiers pulled the children away, pushing them into a line. Onyeka counted each one with quick, precise glances. "Get them moving," he commanded in an emotionless tone. Obinna stood to the side, his expression unreadable. Onyeka's gaze landed on Ikenna. His white hair gleamed under the harsh sun, and the lightning-shaped scars that ran across his dark skin stood out like marks of power. His cloudy eyes seemed distant yet sharp. Ikenna led the line of children, following behind the carts carrying the supplies and resources plundered from the village. Despite the uncerta

Akunna’s body lay wrapped in white cloth, resting in a grave. A few villagers stood around her, singing sorrowful songs. Their faces were heavy with grief, but they sang to honor a brave woman who had fought to protect her son. Ikenna stood apart, tears streaming down his face. He clenched his fists, trying not to cry, but it was useless. His body shook with sobs. He wanted to be strong, not to show weakness in front of the men who had killed his mother, but the pain was too much. Obinna noticed him from afar. Ignoring the curious looks from his soldiers, he walked to Ikenna and placed a hand on his shoulder. Ikenna stiffened. For a moment, he wanted to push the man away. But something about Obinna’s steady presence calmed him. He leaned into the touch, his sobs quieter now. The soldiers were surprised by his actions and whispered among themselves. "Why’s the general doing that?" one asked. "He’s acting like the boy isn’t a hostage," another muttered. Onyeka, Obinna’s br

Obinna and his soldiers marched out of the forest in heavy silence. Rain still clung to the trees and mud clung to their boots. The unconscious boy hung over a soldier's shoulder, limp and drenched like a rag doll. Obinna walked ahead, his thoughts weighing him down. “What have I done?”He couldn't get the seer's prophecyout of his mind. She had instructedhim to kill the boy, but Obinna just couldn't do such a thing. The boyhad lost everything: his mother, his home. To kill him would be a crime against the gods themselves.Behind them, another soldier carried the woman’s body. Obinna glanced back, his heart heavy. She deserved a proper burial. Maybe it would be the first step toward gaining the boy’s trust. As they came out of the forest, into the clearing, the village was in view. Smoke billowed from shattered huts, and the square was packed with terrified villagers under the gaze of Obinna's men. Mothers held their children close, and the elderly satstaring with worn-out eyes.O

The group's arrival in the city drew attention, and their unique situation—most of them bloodied—left the citizens of Oasis City reeling in fear. Bjorn and the warriors of the tribe were caked in blood—some their own, and the rest from the beasts they had slain—but even in that situation, one person stood out.Bjorn looked like a demon who had crawled out of the deepest pits of hell. His clothes, practically rags, barely clung to his body by loose threads. He seemed to have bathed in the blood of his enemies, which covered every inch of him except for his purple eyes, gleaming with excitement as he stared at the city before him, ignoring the guards who had surrounded him, their hands on their weapons, ready to react to his slightest move.The guards had identified him as a foreigner because of the difference in his outfit. Even as rags, they differed from the traditional garbs of the desert tribes, and his bloody appearance did him no favors as the guards perceived him as a threat. Th

The tribe could be seen trudging along the desert in a somber mood. Chief Martel was leading the march, as he was the most familiar with navigating the terrain and was in charge of determining their destination. Beasts of burden carried the tribe's load and the younger children. The civilians were flanked by the still-bloody warriors, who hadn’t had the chance to clean up after their last battle. They had only managed to salvage the resources necessary for their travel, which would also strengthen them, taken from the beasts they had defeated. Finally, Bjorn could be seen bringing up the rear of the long marching line, accompanied by some warriors. He stayed behind because he was the first line of defense against any threat that might approach from behind. His task occasionally required him to disappear to deal with unseen threats. With the aid of shadows scouting the area, he was able to respond quickly to any approaching danger. The civilians marched uneasily, their eyes frequ

The loud cheers of the crowd during the duel had echoed far, attracting unwanted attention from beasts roaming the desert. This had inevitably led to their current situation: an impending beast attack. The roars of over a hundred beasts charging toward them sent the crowd into a panic. Ordinary citizens ran amok while the warriors tried to coordinate a hasty response and direct the civilians toward their homes. “Get up. We have to hold them back while the civilians get ready to travel,” Bjorn urged Martel as he handed the chief his dropped spear. Martel was shaken by the sight before him. In all his life, he had never experienced a beast wave of this caliber, and he now understood why Bjorn was angry with him. If he had listened to the young mage earlier, they wouldn’t be in this precarious situation. Calming his heart, he grabbed the spear with a nod and began barking orders to his subordinates. They faced daunting odds of surviving this deadly battle, but, as with all danger, th

It’s been five days since Bjorn started training his new, unexpected students. He had a little difficulty passing on the absorption technique to the warriors, but once they understood it, their growth and progress were exponential.The quality and quantity of beasts' corpses available made it possible for everyone to train nonstop for days, and Bjorn made sure that the supply of beast meat never ran dry.With his shadows scouting the perimeter, he spotted any beast long before it arrived at the settlement and swiftly dispatched the powerful ones while directing some warriors to deal with the weaker beasts. But lately, the number of beasts coming their way had been gradually increasing, and Bjorn had already noticed that trend.“You need to move your community,” Bjorn said as he stood before a meditating Chief Martel, who had already achieved a body breakthrough to the adept level after absorbing numerous adept-level resources.The chief looked to have aged backward, with the wrinkles

The old mage who introduced himself as Chief Martel led Bjorn towards their camp with a small entourage of warriors, the rest of the warriors stayed back to loot the battlefield and take of their dead.They led Bjorn past a small wall that barely reached his chest and into their settlement made of a sea of tents, the tents are made of thick cloth, flapping gently in the warm breeze. The tents staked into the ground are arranged in a circular way, and they get larger the closer they get to the center.Bjorn noticed the nervous running around of the locals to get things back in order; he also noticed their looks of appreciation and admiration since word has gone around of his help in defeating the beasts that would have definitely killed most of them.As they got closer to the center of the settlement, the environment turned greener and Bjorn caught the sweet scent of water in the air; he saw the large tents in the middle of the camp go round an oasis, a shimmering pool of water surroun

After days of relentless training, Bjorn was finally ready to continue his journey. He felt on the cusp of a physical breakthrough, but his instincts warned him to hold back."I just need to focus on my essence training now," he thought as he donned black garb from his space ring. "But first, I need to get out of here," he mused, hearing the sounds of roaring and fighting in the distance.The region had transformed into a striking scene. The once fiery rivers of molten lava had hardened into dark, jagged rock, sprawling like a frozen wave across the barren land. The surface was cracked and rough, with some areas appearing smooth and glassy, as if the ground had been glazed. The desert sand, once soft and golden, now mingled with the blackened rock, creating a stark contrast. Wisps of steam still rose from small fissures here and there.Due to the still-erupting volcanoes and the region's new appearance, lava beasts had invaded the area, disrupting the ecosystem. This could not be tole