Cherreads

Rise of the Dread King

Kazakage_Uchiha
35
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 35 chs / week.
--
NOT RATINGS
1.1k
Views
Synopsis
They cast me into shadow… yet I became the flame." Born as the discarded son of a tyrant king and his secret concubine, Kael Veylor was never meant to live. Sold to a mad sorcerer, cursed with godlike power, and broken beyond repair, the boy who should’ve died in chains instead carved a throne from the ashes of his pain. Now crowned as the feared Dread King, Kael rules not with cruelty—but with compassion wrapped in steel. His kingdom, once ravaged by war and darkness, now thrives beneath his black banner. Children laugh in the streets. Orphans find warmth. And twelve powerful warriors—the Thorns, each scarred and saved by Kael—stand at his side as both his generals and his family. But peace is a lie the world refuses him. The Holy Kingdom of Solarae—his father's realm—has declared him a blight upon creation. Arrogant sword saints, summoned heroes, and god-blessed empires rise to erase him from history. They do not see the man. They only see the monster. And monsters, once awakened… never kneel. As war threatens to consume the world, Kael must confront the past that forged him, the pain that haunts him, and the blood he’ll spill to protect the only home he’s ever known. To protect his people, he will become the villain the world fears… And in his wake, even gods shall fal
VIEW MORE

Chapter 1 - Ashes of the Bastard Prince

The chains dug into his wrists like hungry mouths, biting deeper with every shudder of the cart. Rain fell in sheets, mingling with the dried blood on his skin. Around him, the forest whispered—mocking, uncaring. Just like the nobles who'd laughed when his mother begged for mercy. Just like the guards who spat on his food and cursed his name.

Kael Veylor.

That was the name the palace never said aloud. A mistake. A sin. A bastard born from lust and silence.

He remembered her hands. Once soft. Then cracked and trembling. The day she sold him to the robed man with eyes like rotting milk, she never looked back. She just whispered, "It's your fault. You ruined me."

The cart stopped. Torches flickered in the rain. A voice barked, rough and sharp:

"Bring the subject inside."

They dragged him out. Mud swallowed his feet. A door creaked open, and darkness swallowed him whole.

He screamed for hours.

Days.

Weeks.

Pain became breath. Suffering, his heartbeat. They carved sigils into his flesh, poured cursed mana into his eyes until he saw time shatter and bend. Until he heard voices whispering from the walls.

Until he forgot his name.

But then—

He remembered.

The laughter.

The cold.

The throne he would never sit on.

And something bloomed. Not hatred. Not vengeance.

Purpose.

One night, when the sorcerer slept too deep and the guards drank too much, the boy with the cursed eyes opened the iron doors… and hell followed him.

The facility burned.

Screams echoed into the night.

And from the flame walked a boy with blood on his hands and children trailing behind him—eyes wide, terrified, saved.

Years passed.

They called him the Demon's Apprentice. The Dark Flame. The Fallen Heir.

But when he returned from exile, clad in obsidian armor, crowned in black thorns and shadow, they gave him a new name.

The Dread King.

And with twelve broken souls behind him—his Thorns—he began the war.

Not for revenge.

Not for glory.

But for a kingdom that would never throw away its children again.

Let them call him monster. He would become the god of monsters if that's what it took to protect them.