Avengers Medieval Novels & Stories

Three minutes later, he was caught up again. Both parties exchanged blows once. Alex suffered a miserable defeat with three broken ribs and cursed in immense pain. ‘D*mn it! How is he so powerful? ‘I can’t even defeat him with 2,999 golden cores. What’s the point of having so many, then?’ He was cornered. He only managed to infer the great gap between him and an Immortal Monarch or Immortal Emperor in close-quarters combat. He had used Medusa’s Aegis Shield and wanted to repeat the same trick to petrify that man but to no avail. It was because the avatar on Medusa’s Aegis Shield was hidden, and he did not know how to activate it.

A woman who looked like her mother, sobbing with blood in her mouth. A version of Damon, pale and cruel. A boy she once saved as a child—now twisted and snarling. Ronan stepped up beside her, blade drawn. “This is no ordinary war,” he muttered. Maddox narrowed his eyes. “They’re using our memories.” “They’re using us,” Kellan growled. “They’re using her,” Damon finished. Ava didn’t speak. Her gaze locked on the figure emerging at the center of the army. Clad in violet armor, black veil trailing behind her like wings—

Meredith stepped forward before Zavian could respond, her ocean-blue eyes holding depths of immense worry. "I've seen things. Visions." Her voice was steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Enemies from our four families joining forces. Blackthorns, Ravencrests, Delgaards, and Westfields… united under a single banner, led by something far more formidable than any of us." Zavian's eyes narrowed. Meredith's voice dropped lower. "I've seen death. Bodies piled so high they block out the sun. Blood running in rivers. Our kingdoms and realms burning. Our people slaughtered."

And only then did it really hit me that I could hear horrible sounds of battle and people screaming. Peeking out from behind the corner where we were hiding, I saw that everyone had joined the fight against the massive monster. From the unknown tall black-haired mage (!) to the daughters of Rasfata, Turab, Yafi, and the rest of the warriors. “Damn,” Anton scratched the back of his head, taking in the scale of it all. “I feel like some kind of Marvel Avenger.” “Lavi, stay here and protect our keys!” Kays immediately rushed back into the fray, hurling his attacks and moving closer to replace the unknown mage.

Brand had forgotten what it felt like – the all-consuming need for the blood of his enemies to be spilled on the ground at his feet. Brand shook his head another scream was silenced as he ripped out another throat. The blood dripped from his long snout as he took a breath and looked around him. Leather-clad warriors lay around him, some with eyes open staring at the sky as if looking for the Valkyries coming to take them to Valhalla. Brand snorted. Good luck. He couldn't believe the gods would want any of these followers of a deranged leader in their feasting halls.

I pivot and trudge back to see the boss. The throne is on a raised platform. It’s an actual medieval throne, imported from Italy or some shit. Simmon’s old stomping ground. You can take the vampire outta the Middle Ages but you can’t take the Middle Ages outta the vampire.

Achilles counters. I shake my head. “How are you feeling?” He exhales dramatically. “Like I got shot by a poisoned bullet, carried halfway across the world, and forced to endure Mara’s disgusting potions.” “Good. That means it’s working,” Valentine mutters. Achilles gives him a deadpan look. “Oh, fantastic. I love being the test subject for medieval medicine.” I roll my eyes, but there’s warmth behind it. “You should be grateful. If not for Mara’s ‘medieval medicine,’ you’d be dead.”

I heard the screeches and Echoes of pain and the sound of burning flesh as the vampires and terrors began to react, claws drawn fangs out moving fast but we were faster. Burning flesh. The holy water worked. I didn't think I was supposed to be surprised about that, but I was, I was pleased. After a while, they advanced toward us and I ordered them to stop. Once the arrows stopped raining down a loud Battle cry filled the nights air. Horses ridden by thousands upon thousands of Seelies and Elves with gold and silver armor, running across the field directly to the enemy with a winged helmet in the lead.

“We haven’t had any rumblings from our rogue vampires, and I don’t think my spies have heard anything either. I will check with them when we get off the phone. You may also want to contact the other kingdoms and see if any of their rogues have spilled the beans about anything.” “Do the elves and spell casters even have any rogues in the Rogue Lands?” Angus asks. “All kingdoms have rogues in the Rogue Lands. Most of the rogues in the Rogue Lands are shifters though since the magic users can just use magic to punish and imprison their outliers." “We’ll start with Eferhile, I know Morrigan would love to have a conversation with Bayard since he’s getting ready to pass the kingdom to Maeve and he

Emerging from a group of bushes, emerge twenty men, all of them armed and all looking rather filthy. Their tunics were caked in black stains while various insects were crawling around the bird shite that covered their cloaks. The only thing that looked clean in their outfits was a single large lavender strap tied to their elbows. “Identify yourselves strangers!” Varkii shouts at them. One of them raises his axe and points it at us and shouts “I’ll ask the same of you Remanian pig!” the stranger replies. “They’re Barbarian mercenaries” Pal’lacon murmured. We had faced down some of their kind before, many Barbarians mercenaries or sellswords as we called them were used to bolster Persian ranks