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The Immortal King: Lord of the Dark Realm

The Immortal King: Lord of the Dark Realm

Fantasy
last updateTerakhir Diperbarui : 2025-12-22
Oleh:  Achilefu Ifebuche KingsleyOngoing
Bahasa: English
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Sinopsis

Adventurous

Action

Superpower

Weak to Strong

Revenge

Ruthless

Survival Game

Alaric Thorn was just a blacksmith in the 12th century—a husband, a father, a simple man. Until the day everything was taken from him. His wife murdered. His daughters stolen. And he himself slaughtered, powerless to protect the people he loved. But death did not end his story. Dragged into a supernatural realm after dying, Alaric made a desperate bargain: power in exchange for completing a mission in the future. A mission he did not understand. He returned to Earth centuries later—only to realize his revenge no longer existed. Four hundred years had passed. His family long gone. Their killer long dead. And Alaric… could no longer die. Cursed with immortality, he wandered through ages and empires, trying every possible way to end his life—failing each time. All he wanted was to go back in time and fix what he had lost. But when he finally stepped into a time machine, fate betrayed him again. Instead of the past… Alaric was thrown into another realm entirely—a brutal world crawling with monsters, ancient races, and system-like powers. Here, strength must be earned through blood, each battle pushing him closer to awakening his true potential. In this realm, he is no longer just a wanderer. He is a rising lord. A conqueror. A man destined to build an empire strong enough to challenge a king— a king who bears the same name as the monster who destroyed his life on Earth. As Alaric fights beasts, defeats tyrants, and gathers allies and armies, he discovers the truth behind the mission he accepted centuries ago: To reclaim his fate… To break his immortal curse… To rewrite the destiny stolen from him… He must rise as the Immortal King. The true master of the Dark Realm he was fated to rule.

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14 Bab
Hope for the Misery
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Four Centuries Too Late
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Rage Unleashed
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Cursed With Immortality
The mountain wind howled against the rocks, cold and sharp like a thousand whispers. I sat there, staring at the valley below — the same valley that held the village I’d just left. My hands trembled, still smeared with blood that wasn’t mine.The voice had lied.Or worse — it had abandoned me.I pulled a dagger I took from one of the soldiers. Its edge glinted pale in the moonlight. Without a thought, I turned it toward my chest.“I didn’t ask for this,” I muttered. Then I drove it in.The steel sank deep. For a moment, I felt it — the pain, the heat of blood spilling across my fingers. Then it was gone. The wound sealed as if it had never been. Not even a scar remained.I stared, breathing hard. Then I tried again — deeper this time. Nothing.I screamed and hurled the dagger down the slope, where it clattered against stone.So I tried other ways.I leapt from the cliff — the rocks below shattered under me, but my bones did not.I drowned myself in the mountain stream until my lungs b
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The Man Death Refused
Misery has a sound — the slow echo of years that refuse to end. I lived through it all. I built homes, made families, raised children who carried my eyes and smile — and buried every one of them. I learned not to grow too close, not to hope too much. Because every time I did, time would steal them away. They aged. I didn’t. They died. I couldn’t. After a while, even grief lost its sharpness. It became something quieter — a dull ache that hummed beneath the years, like an old wound that never healed but never quite hurt enough to make you scream anymore. I watched wives wither beside me, friends fade into dust, children grow old and forget the man who never changed. After a while, I stopped trying to explain. I just left — again and again — because staying hurt too much. And yet… I kept looking for an end. That was me in the Battle of Waterloo, 1815 — walking through the smoke and fire as bullets tore the air around me. Men screamed, cannons thundered, bodies fell like rain. I
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The Ticket Back
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Time Travel
They said it would take three years.Bu it took eight years.Eight years of equations, prototypes, failures, and cautious optimism. Eight years that — for someone who had lived through centuries — felt longer than any eternity before it.For me, immortality had always been a curse measured in heartbeats, not years. But this wait… this wait taught me something new. Hope, when stretched too long, begins to hurt.And yet, on that morning, as the alarms hummed softly through the Arcadia Complex, I realized the hurt didn’t matter anymore.Because the machine was ready.They’d built it in the heart of the facility — a vast chamber the size of a cathedral, walls lined with reinforced glass and glowing data veins that pulsed like arteries. The air buzzed with energy, almost alive.At the center stood the machine itself — the Chronos Gate.It wasn’t what I expected. No grand sphere or bulky metal box like in the old holo-movies. It was graceful — a massive circular frame of silver and black, s
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Wrong Time, Wrong World
The time machine slammed into the ground, its metal frame groaning as the engines sputtered weakly. A deafening whine filled the air — then a violent shockwave blasted outward, kicking up a storm of dust.Sand erupted in spirals around the machine, swallowing everything in a choking haze. The entire world trembled beneath me as the power flickered, hummed, and finally died.I reached for the release button and pressed it. The door hissed open with a metallic sigh — and a wall of heat slammed into me, followed by a surge of dust that clawed at my throat and stung my eyes as I climbed out into the storm.I took a few cautious steps forward, hand raised against the swirling grit. Visibility was near zero, but I kept moving. Then my boot struck something hard.I looked down—and froze.A skull. Human, or close enough to it.“What the…?” The word tore out of my throat before I could stop it.My pulse quickened. I kept walking slowly as the storm began to settle, and when it finally did, I w
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