Forgotten Conqueror Novels & Stories

Mercer looked like a man witnessing the end of a prophecy. The fractures in reality suddenly froze. Every timeline became still. Every possibility paused. Hope gasped. Her eyes widened. And tears filled them instantly. "He's lonely." Nobody understood. Except Mercer. Because the moment she spoke— He remembered something hidden deep within the oldest ORIGIN files. A warning. One sentence buried beneath centuries of erased data. Never wake the Forgotten One. Mercer's blood ran cold. --- Inside the Void The darkness condensed. Reality bent. Stars appeared. Not ordinary stars.

Conqueror... A title only meant for people who strive to reclaim the lands from the monsters to humanity. The Conquerors are one of humanity's hope including the adventurers. Conquerors command the people to their glory to reclaim the lands. No Conqueror could have achieved the feat of conquering the lands on their own without an army and no people can achieve conquering the lands even with superior numbers without the lead of a Conqueror. The way to gain the title is by achieving great feats in countless battles and polishing your skills. Harder than being an adventurer could do.

“We’re flying towards far north where our hideout is.” “Hideout?” Arth paused as the word brought back his memories of being in the Forgotten Winter guild. He had worked in their hideout as a cook, wood harvester, cleaner, and, of course, a warrior assassin. The memory suddenly led to Alice. Arth frowned as the old pain poked his chest and tightened it, making him more emotional. A year had passed without Alice, and Arth had yet been fully healed from his painful memory of seeing Alice get pierced by that damn spear. It was gruesome.

“She would’ve told me to choose mercy. Told me… I was still human.” But he had forgotten how to be anything but fire. His hand slid over his chest — where the bond once pulsed with life. It was faint now. Quiet. But not gone. Not yet. And that single flicker of connection… was enough. He stood slowly, the winds rustling through his hair, and turned toward the north — toward the lands beyond the war, where whispers said a forgotten queen now ruled. “I’ve conquered the world,” he murmured, voice rough with longing.

"When enough division existed, it entered the world fully." The memories shifted again. Now I saw the war. Not between light and shadow. Between everyone and the Silence. The Hollow Guard. The ancient armies. The throne. The queen. Fighting desperately against a darkness that consumed everything it touched. Not physically. Emotionally. People forgot who they loved, forgot what they believed, forgot themselves. The realization hit me like a physical blow. The Forgotten. That's why they were called that. The queen saw understanding dawn on my face. "Yes." Pain flashed through her eyes. "They were not created."

"I have no choice. You shall be confined to stone and face the seas of darkness where none may explore. Your name shall be forgotten and left to decay on papyrus. Woe be unto the earth should you ever be released." A low snarl echoed from Am-Heh's throat but it died as his body stiffened, withering in the light of the other until it reached a brightness none could stand. When it cleared all that was left was a small statue in his likeness. Plucking it from the ground Atum tossed it down and into the dust of a hidden tomb. ---- Present Day:

Duke was left silent for a long while, his tears rolling down his cheeks. However, he eventually held out my ring, and I didn't hesitate to take it away. That seemed to drain him off all his strength, and he dropped limply on the ground. Before we left, Alex threatened viciously, "I'm warning you—don't bother my sister ever again. We will just treat the cost spent to establish the Forest Pack as alimony… but if you stalk her again, the House of Rod will destroy you." Duke looked up, dumbfounded as he muttered, "The House of Rod… The House of the Alpha King…"

Malicious glee was all over the man's face as he contemplated his victory. Suddenly, the lord of the Keep began to laugh and the fat man was taken somewhat by surprise. "My son has not been in this castle for over a month. He is safe, In a place that you can never have access to. A place safe and sacred to my people. A place he will be raised to know who and what he is. You see, Ragar, you will die in a few years. But my son will live for centuries. Not only will he live, but he will establish our kingdom once more."

Dymas Milelot. He pledged his loyalty to his king and for his king, he slit numerous throats. He was known for his mighty conquests before the age of thirty but before then…he couldn’t remember his less-than-stellar childhood. He chose to forget a past when he had been a weakling.

The system recognized him as a legacy file—something to be archived and forgotten, not the hand that held the key. I pressed my palm harder against the glass. One hundred and six degrees. My hair felt like it was glowing, each silver thread acting as a fiber-optic cable drawing the city’s history directly into my skull. Every street, every locked door, every memory Kael had ever tried to delete—it all poured in. I saw the mercury conduits beneath the streets. I saw the faces of the "Forgotten" in the basement, their data cold and smelling of wet stone. Then, the prompt burned into the center of my mind: [AUTHORIZATION GRANTED. ROOT ADMINISTRATOR: BLACKWOOD, ARIA.]