AndyB_writes

Born in exile, Pyrrhus of Epirus rises to reclaim his lost kingdom, proving himself a warrior as fierce as his ancestor, Achilles. From the battlefields of Greece to the war-torn lands of Italy, he wages war against powerful enemies, including Macedon, Rome, and shifting allies who betray him at every turn. As he builds an empire through blood and conquest, Pyrrhus seeks not just victory, but immortality—a place among the greatest legends of history.

But war demands sacrifice. And the price of ambition is steep.


Years after his father’s fall, Alexander II of Epirus is forced into exile, raised in a land of warriors. As a young king, he reclaims his throne and seeks to restore his father’s legacy. But he soon faces an even greater threat—Rome, an empire that will not bow to kings or gods.

Outnumbered and surrounded by betrayal, Alexander must decide what kind of ruler he will be—one who fights for his people, or one who fights for history. As war consumes the land, his destiny unfolds in a battle that will determine not only his fate, but the fate of all who defy the rise of an empire.

Crown and Blood

The fires of the Roman siege had barely cooled.

But already, the air inside Ambracia was heavier than before.

Victory should have brought relief.

Instead, it brought whispers. Doubts. Fear.

Alexander stood before the war council, his hands gripping the edge of the table.

"The Romans will return," he said. "And when they do, they will come with an entire army."

Lysandros nodded slowly. "And what do we do? Wait for them?"

Drakon scoffed. "No. We strike first."

Alexander's golden eyes burned. "Rome will expect us to stay behind these walls. We will do the opposite."

He pointed to the coast of Illyria, where Roman supply routes ran through Greece.

"We will cut them off before they regroup."

"There are… those who believe another war with Rome will be our ruin."

Alexander's gaze hardened. "Do you count yourself among them?"

Lysandros's expression was unreadable. "I am loyal to Epirus, my king."

That night, the traitors made their move.

Inside the halls of Ambracia, whispers became plans.

Lysandros met with other Epirote nobles, their faces filled with fear and doubt.

"Alexander has doomed us," one hissed. "Rome will not tolerate this insult."

"He must be stopped," another whispered.

Alexander would not live to fight Rome again.

Drakon approached him in the dead of night, his expression grim. "The nobles are restless."

Alexander nodded. "They fear Rome more than they believe in Epirus."

Drakon crossed his arms. "Should I… deal with them?"

He turned toward the torch-lit palace halls, his mind sharp.

"We let them believe they have won."

Drakon raised an eyebrow. "And then?"

Alexander's smirk was cold as steel.

"Then we remind them who the true enemy is."

In the depths of night, the traitors struck.

A dagger flashed in the dark, aimed straight for Alexander's heart.

But the assassin never reached him.

A sword pierced the man's chest before he could strike.

Alexander watched as his attacker collapsed, his blood spilling onto the marble floor.

Drakon stood behind the corpse, his blade dripping red.

"You were right," he muttered. "They came for you."

Alexander stepped over the body, his face unreadable.

By dawn, the traitors were rounded up.

Lysandros was dragged before the throne, his face pale.

Alexander stood over him. "You would rather sell Epirus to Rome than fight?"

Alexander's voice was like ice. "Then you will not live to see Epirus fall."

With a single motion, his sword flashed.

And with them, the last whispers of doubt were silenced.

Shadows in the Court