All Chapters of The Forsaken Heir of Ten Thousand Realms: Chapter 11
- Chapter 13
13 chapters
Chapter 11 — First Sign of Divine Bloodline
The slums woke slowly that morning, as if the sun itself hesitated to pour its light upon a place that forgot hope long ago. Thin smoke drifted from broken chimneys. Mothers shook dust from blankets. Children with hollow eyes hunted for leftover scraps from the market three streets away.But inside a narrow alley, beneath a collapsed roof held together by old rope and desperate faith, Arin and Lyra sat huddled beside a shivering stray dog.It had followed them for two days—limping, ribs showing, fur matted with dried blood. Arin had tried to scare it off at first. One more mouth meant one more problem. But Lyra… Lyra couldn’t walk away.She never could.“Arin,” she whispered, cupping the dog’s head gently. “He’s going to die.”Arin looked away. He hated this feeling—the helplessness of wanting to save but lacking the power, the food, even the freedom to try. He had nothing. He was nothing. And the world made sure he never forgot that.“We can’t save every dying thing,” Arin muttered.
Chapter 12 — Arin’s First Faint Echo
The night fell heavy over the slums, carrying an unnatural chill that seeped through broken rooftops and thin blankets. Arin lay curled on the dirt floor beside Lyra, trembling uncontrollably. Sweat drenched his forehead. His breath came in ragged, uneven bursts.A fever—violent and sudden.Lyra had begged him to rest in the warmest corner of their makeshift shelter, but warmth felt like a distant dream. Every pulse of heat sent another wave of pain through Arin’s body, as though something inside him was fighting to break free.“Arin,” Lyra whispered, brushing damp hair from his forehead. “Please stay awake. Please.”He tried to respond, but the world around him blurred into a haze of shadows and muffled sounds.His fever wasn’t normal.His visions weren’t normal.And worst of all—the presence watching them earlier still lingered in the back of his mind.Arin gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”The lie fell apart the moment it left his mouth. His body shook harder, his throat tightened, a
Chapter 13 — The Slum’s Three Friends
The slums were louder than usual that morning—shouts from street vendors, the clang of broken pots, the distant laughter of children pretending they weren’t starving. But beneath the noise, Arin felt a tension lurking in the air. As if the world itself was holding its breath after the strange symbol had appeared on their wall the night before.He kept Lyra close as they made their way toward the water barrels. Their shelter was no longer safe. They needed information—and allies.Whether he liked it or not.Lyra tugged on his sleeve. “Do you think someone will help us?”Arin hesitated. Help was hard to come by in the slums. But there were three people—three children like them—who had crossed paths with him enough times to matter.The first appeared without warning, as always.A cold voice cut through the morning air.“You’re late. The water’s almost gone.”Arin turned.Elira stood by the barrel, pale morning light reflecting off her dark hair. Her expression was as unreadable as ever—e