Abyssal Lord Novels & Stories

His eyes—half gold, half black—burned with unyielding resolve. “I made a promise to bring her back… and I don’t break promises.” He stood, the blood around him coiling and twisting into vast wings. The crimson light of the Holy Gate reflected in his eyes—deep and cold as the abyss. “Open, Abyss,” he whispered, voice like a spell. “Take me to where she’s trapped.” A pillar of light engulfed him. --- The Primordial Abyss – Sea of Blood. Evelyn stood alone amidst the ruins. Then a figure appeared—Lucien, his black hair matted, cloak torn, eyes filled with both love and despair.

"Pawns in a game already lost. What matters is Hailey’s heart. Her mind. If I control both, I control the realms." Tristan, the brute, asked with a chuckle, "And if the Wolf King intervenes?" I let a chuckle bubble from my throat. "Let him. The wolf may growl, but the sea drowns all." Later, in the crystal chamber, I summoned the living core of our newest army. Shadows moulded with water, hate bred in salt and bone. My secret weapon: the Abyssborn. They rose from the dark pits, humanoid in form but monstrous in nature. Silent. Unfeeling. Loyal.

It was the sound of a mountain moving through water. The Abyssal Alpha A massive shadow blotted out the moonlight. Rising from the black waters of the Oakhaven harbor was a creature that dwarfed the Leviathan from the mines. It was a shifter, but it had undergone a "Complete Descent." It stood thirty feet tall, its body a terrifying fusion of a prehistoric wolf and a deep-sea kraken. Its fur was replaced by interlocking obsidian plates, and where a wolf’s mane should be, a crown of glowing, bioluminescent tentacles drifted in the air like kelp.

The Guardian looked toward the entrance of the valley. “The Abyssal Lords,” he muttered, his voice colder than before. My heart skipped. “Abyssal… Lords?” I repeated, confused. “They have awakened.” He slowly unsheathed the gigantic sword resting upon his back. The blade released a soft silver radiance that illuminated nearly half the valley. “I had hoped to delay them.” “I didn’t expect them to arrive so soon.” “I can control them,” I quickly offered. “I’ve already controlled thousands of Abyssal creatures and Void Beasts before.”

The consigliere—a thin, silver-haired man named Russo—watched me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. Halfway through the main course, a young soldier came to Dante's side and murmured something. Dante's expression didn't change. But his hand tightened on my leg. "What is it?" I asked. "Nothing. Stay here." He rose and left the room. I counted to ten. Then I followed. Dante was in the corridor outside, speaking in rapid Italian to a man I didn't recognize. I caught fragments—"Abate," "warehouse," "ambush"—before he noticed me and fell silent.

I begged, my voice cracking with desperation, but they kept dragging me away—from the very moment that could change my life forever. “Please… let me go, let—” The words died in my throat. The doors to the pack house creaked open, and everyone turned toward them. My heart thundered against my ribs and my breathing restless from struggling as my gaze locked onto the figure standing under the moonlight. Torian Valon. The future Alpha of the Crimson Blood Pack. And then his eyes found mine. A chill rushed down my spine as his words. “Mate.”

Growling like he’s wants to eat his own disciple. “F-Forgive m-me, m-my L-Lord.” Captain Black Beard peeked inside which caused his sudden resignation to his disciple. “Daemon, the one and only son of Prince Tubigo, son of the Great King of Rainforest Biome and The Water Nation.” One step at a time into Lord Daemon’s room Captain Black Beard did. “And now, they call you the–” “Lord, Lord Daemon, God of all Cannibal Fire Eater.” Lord Daemon slowly approached the place where Captain Black Beard is standing.

The abyss, however, finally sounded angry. Truly angry. “ENOUGH.” The golden eye split open completely. And beneath the world, the true form of the abyss began rising. Lira’s breath stopped. The thing emerging from the void was beyond monstrous. It had no single shape. No defined body. It looked like darkness trying to imitate existence itself. Endless eyes. Endless mouths. An entire universe of emptiness wrapped into one impossible being. The battlefield collapsed under its presence alone. Hunters fell to their knees.

The murk coalesced into the form of a man — sharp- jawed, chiseled, eyes like indurating oil painting. Morcant, the Abyss King. This was his area of silence. He had not moved in centuries. He was the dark that lived beneath the megacity’s skin. also, without warning, his eyes snapped open. He looked toward the faint light far above at the precipice’s edge. A earthquake, ancient and intimidating, stirred in his casket. He caught a scent drifting down from the heights. A specific, burning aroma of stolen fire and sacrificial blood.

The sun begins to lower through the sky, leaving orange glints reflecting off all the metals in the satellite dishes and vents that lead up here. I walk briskly closer until I'm completely behind him, watching his ink-covered back muscles tense with every blow. -Azael- I say this time, trying to normalize my breathing. Amon hits the bag looser before turning around. His torso is naked and a few beads of sweat fall down his black-colored body. His mouth is ajar to breathe easier and his chest goes up and down frantically. -What are you doing here? -question. His voice makes me shiver.