They called him lowborn.
Kitchen rat.
Freak.
They beat him, branded him, made him bleed for dreaming.
They said magic belonged to bloodlines.
They said power was not for people like him.
They were wrong.
Arnold Bennett was never meant to rise.
But he did.
In shadow. In silence. In ruin.
He stole a name from the mouths of kings.
He carved magic into his bones with fire and grief.
He shattered thrones, outwitted gods, and stood at the edge of unmaking-
Not to rule.
But to ask the one question no one in power dares to face:
A Hero Who Isn't
Arnold is no chosen one. He's a weapon honed by cruelty, wielded by no one. His scars are real, his power earned, and his path terrifyingly free.
A World on the Brink
Kingdoms rot from within. Magic is hoarded like gold. Gods play with lives like dice. The system is rigged and Arnold is here to burn it clean.
Magic That Cuts Deep
Runes etched in bone and pain. Keeper hearts pulsing with stolen power. Telepathy, summoning, time-warping ruin. This is not cozy magic, this is magic as war.
Fate vs. Free Will
At the core: a battle older than gods. Can you truly choose who you are, or are you always what they made you? When Fate falls, who decides what rises?