Le_Krackeen

The life of the son of a nobleman was not as happy as others could think. With a loving but always away father, a mother who had forgotten about his existence, and a brother too busy learning to become the next heir, Rohan had the habit to live alone. 

One day, he decided he had enough and chose to live in the secondary mansion of the family, accompanied by his butler and some guards. Since his goal was to become a Warrior to follow the path of his father, he chose to train with the guards each morning when he was only 10 years old. Followed years of training, until the day to become a warrior, a mana user, had finally come. 

But it was only the beginning of his story, and even though it was easy to understand that he was a genius in the warrior path, life, was truly never easy.

Follow the tales of Rohan, roaming a world of magic populated of many races as he learn the hard way about them all. About the darkness of the humans; the haughtiness of the elves; the greediness of the dwarves; the craziness of the orcs; the shrewdness of the goblins; the deviousness of the demons; the foolishness of all living beings.

Follow his journey as he became the Master of Uradan, a world of demons that only he could go as he will, and as he become the most powerful warrior and the most terrifying wizard of the whole world.

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The Master of Uradan

Rohan was standing on his horse with a dignified expression looking at the horizon.


He was wearing a dark leather armor, and the only skin visible was his face.


The armor he had on him was the one he had bought himself with all the money his master gave to him each week since he had begun to work. Even though the pay was good and Horim didn't care about the money he had on him, Rohan could only afford one of the least costly armor he had found.


Hanging on the left side of the horse, Barakas, there were two bags both filled to the brim with all the affairs he was currently possessing. The warrior also had a black cape wrapping up his body, as it would be useful to protect him from the harsh environment and the cold nights.


On his left, a good sword was on its scabbard. It was the one forged by Horim, and the quality was even better than the one that his father had given to him the day of his fourteen birthday.


Chapter 53: The Barren Lands