A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperorongoing
Romance

A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

by Nick_alderson

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Oliver Patrick, history's most fearless general in Stormfront, conceals a truth most never discover. His legendary Iron Will wasn't forged in a moment—it emerged from the brutal path he walked as the slave Beam, rising from chains to claim the throne and ultimately the crown of Emperor. This chronicle unveils that hidden journey. A testament of relentless progression, anguish, tribulation, and unwavering resilience. A saga of dominion built without divine intervention or mystical systems. A chronicle of how one forgotten peasant's determination reshaped an entire civilization. //Extract His severed arm crashed to the stone floor alongside his head. Goblin spears whistled through empty air as the creatures lunged at the opening they thought they'd found. But the battle's balance had already tipped. With their strongest fallen and unable to demand his focus, the remaining goblins proved defenseless against his lethal velocity. He executed a familiar deception—the rehearsed backward retreat—before exploding forward to catch the unsuspecting goblin mid-strike. His body twisted beneath the jabbing spear as his blade found the creature's throat. A shrill cry erupted as the goblin dropped its weapon, desperately clutching at the crimson flood pouring from its neck. Its neighbor shrieked in panic, eyes bulging as it watched two companions fall in rapid succession. Beam saw the creature hesitate, then bolt. He caught it before it fled, wrenching his arm around its throat and driving steel through its spine. He didn't release the corpse this time. He held firm as death convulsed through it, then repositioned the limp body before him as a barrier. Two arrows thudded deep into the flesh—nearly penetrating entirely. By the time they reached Beam, their force was spent; they grazed him without tearing cloth. Advancing steadily behind his grisly shield, Beam pushed toward the final two goblins. They exchanged a desperate look, fired a last volley, then broke into a dead sprint. "Stay," he commanded, locking eyes with one. The creature froze mid-stride. Beam discarded his shield and seized a spear instead. One fluid motion—a twist from his core—and the weapon streaked through the air, impaling the fleeing goblin clean through its abdomen. Its bow slipped from weakening fingers. It staggered to its knees, then collapsed face-first, driving the spear further through its own body.