Adventure Time Rebellion: Fight for the Throne

Chapter 48: Fire Kingdom (1)

Silman Ben stood firmly at the towering entrance to the Fire Queen's private chamber, his boots planted wide and his spine as straight as a drawn spear. The ever-present heat of the royal wing radiated from the volcanic stone beneath his feet, but he did not flinch. His expression was carved from granite—steady, unreadable, disciplined. For years, he had stood guard over this sacred place, and even now, that unshakable aura never left him.

The moment he heard the Fire Queen's voice ring out, calm and authoritative—"Enter"—he moved without delay.

With both hands, he pushed open the heavy obsidian doors, etched with ancient flame sigils that pulsed softly with embedded fire essence. They parted with a deep, echoing groan, revealing the heart of the throne chamber bathed in crimson light.

There, upon her elevated platform framed by ever-burning braziers, sat the Fire Queen.

She occupied her usual place—regal, poised, immovable. Her body was completely draped in a flowing veil of flame-colored silk, embroidered with golden threads that shimmered like dancing embers. The garment concealed her figure yet elevated her presence, giving her an ethereal, almost divine serenity. It was as if she were flame given human form—elegant, controlled, and untouchable.

"Silman Ben, there is something I want you to announce throughout the kingdom," she said, her voice smooth and melodious, yet edged with command.

He stepped forward with practiced precision, stopping several paces away from the dais before dropping to one knee. His right hand clenched over his heart as he bowed his head. "I am all ears, Your Majesty."

The mere idea of spreading an announcement across the entire Fire Kingdom—a realm of vast, blazing territories and fiercely independent sects—was no ordinary order. It was a declaration of scale. His curiosity was piqued.

"Two weeks from today," she began, each word deliberate, heavy with significance, "the royal palace will hold a tournament for the kingdom's young talents."

His brow lifted slightly, just enough to show his surprise. "A tournament? Does Your Highness have a specific goal behind this sudden decision?"

She answered without hesitation, but her tone remained impassive. "Yes. But you do not need to know it at the moment."

Silman blinked. He had served her for years, had been the first to hear every strategy, every threat, every whisper of rebellion. That she would withhold the purpose of this event now—it struck him like a hidden ember under armor. He didn't show it, but it simmered inside.

"What you do need to know is this," she continued, shifting subtly in her seat as the braziers behind her flared slightly, "First, participants must not be older than twenty-four years. Second, it does not matter where they come from—whether from the mighty sects, the wandering clans, or even the common-born. If they believe themselves worthy, they may register."

The Fire Queen's voice was absolute, her decision already set in stone. And yet, to Silman, every word felt like a carefully drawn veil over a hidden purpose.

Her refusal to answer directly, her focus on the event's details instead of the reason behind it—it all pointed to something deeper, something she didn't want him to see yet. That alone unsettled him more than anything else. He was always the first to know. Always. But not this time.

Still, he didn't press further.

"Understood, my lady," he said, rising smoothly from his kneel. "I will begin preparations at once, open the registration and dispatch the message to all sects. Of course, I doubt any commoner would have the gall to compete, knowing the strength and stature of those who will surely answer the call."

"Very good. You may go," she said simply, her tone calm as ever. It wasn't a dismissal of disrespect—but it was final.

He gave her a sharp, deep bow, then turned and exited the chamber in silence. The massive doors closed behind him with a low boom, sealing away the throne and its secrets. His thoughts were loud, each one gnawing at the edge of his discipline—but he had long ago learned to obey before questioning. For now, duty came first.

---

Elsewhere, an engine roared wildly, its guttural growl echoing across open land, as a boy on a sleek crimson bike launched off a small dirt rise. He soared through the air for several seconds before landing hard, his tires smashing back onto the earth and flattening the short, green grass beneath him with a satisfying crunch.

"Gotta admit, I'm having fun!" the boy shouted into the wind, grinning wide as he pushed the throttle further. The air howled around him, whipping his golden hair back as the scenery blurred past.

Ahead, the ground shifted. The lush green faded fast into scorched, sunbaked terrain—cracked earth, jagged black stone, and glowing rivulets of heat running like veins through the land. Without hesitation, Finn leaned forward and surged straight into the burning landscape.

As he sped across the blistering surface, the sudden appearance of a Fire Wolf startled from its burrow made him swerve slightly. The beast spun in confusion at the deafening engine's roar before darting away.

Finn expertly navigated the terrain, weaving between outcroppings of molten rock and dodging bubbling lava pits that hissed as he passed. The intensity of the heat ramped up with every meter, but he was loving it—the growl of the bike beneath him, the wind biting at his face, the thrill of barely controlled speed in a place that would melt most people alive.

Grinning, he raised his hand as he neared a large boulder. Instantly, a surge of magma erupted from the ground, coalescing into a sharp, steep ramp.

Without slowing down, Finn shot up the ramp, launching the bike skyward.