Big_Yellow

Heaven, hell, and the world themselves have forgotten a prominent figure that once stood at the pinnacle. Alas, the said figure himself forgot who he was.

Lyon is a young man who lived a leisurely life on earth. Not much was said except that he enjoyed such a life. However, one fateful night sent him to the world where killing is not a sin, alchemy is a thing, and magic cultivation is not imaginary.

Immediately after being sent to this world. He is met with a beautiful woman who rumbled the earth and cracked the very firmament under the mortals' eyes. Selena is her name. She claimed to be his wife, the first one of three.

However, their meetings didn't last long due to circumstances that he has yet understood. With one wedding ring on his finger that contained half of his past power, he sets forth to find Cecile, the woman whom Selena said is a queen in Blue Continent, the other wife that he adored then.

But, he lacked focus at times, and combined with his whimsical nature, he often finds himself, in unusual situations. His smirk and lazy demeanor brought nothing but trouble for himself and the others around him. His relentless nature of stealing, his rebellious adolescence year, and the capability to smile by the teeth of a gnawing dragon brought his charm to a height that fairies once forget. Though his perverted nature often gets them to scurry away almost immediately, those that stayed long enough to know him better, know the redeeming qualities of Lyon Torga as a whole.

Regardless! His arrival in this world has rotated an old cog of fate that those old monsters and old kings in the ages of the ancients, would have never guessed to be working again.

Emperor's Reckoning

<p>As he ascended from the crater, the lord's gaze pierced through the haze of dust and debris, locking onto his adversaries with a chilling intensity. His remaining arm trembled slightly, weakened by the onslaught it had endured, yet still raised in a defiant gesture. Every breath seemed to rasp through his lungs, each movement a testament to the resilience of his spirit amidst the ruins of the battlefield.</p>

<p>The torn fabric of his once majestic attire fluttered in the turbulent winds, a stark contrast to the grandeur it once exuded. The absence of his arm left a jagged wound in his silhouette, a reminder of the ferocity of the battle that had unfolded. Yet despite the physical toll exacted upon him, there was a steely determination etched into every line of his countenance, a silent vow to press forward despite the odds stacked against him.</p>

Warmth For The Benevolent