Beggar Thief Warrior King Novels & Stories

Chapter 2: The Enemy Camp Raid King Torvald moved like a shadow through the enemy camp under the cover of night, his dark cloak blending with the trees as his small elite strike team slipped between tents. The rival warlord’s forces slept soundly after a day of drinking and boasting, but Torvald’s focus was razor-sharp on one target: the warlord’s legendary lieutenant, a towering brute said to possess the largest cock in the northern territories. Torvald’s own thick length was already half-hard inside his breeches at the mere thought. The king had sacked villages, claimed warriors, and built his reputation on taking what he wanted and tonight, he wanted the biggest prize yet.

The three senior warriors instantly stepped back half a pace, their boots crunching loudly in the gravel, their eyes wide with terror. "The Capital," the eldest warrior whispered, his hand trembling against his sword hilt. "The Capital did this... The King's blood-smiths marked him." "Stand down!" Devon roared, his voice cracking with a sudden, jagged wave of native authority that made the warriors stiffen. He didn't retreat. He stepped straight into the freezing static heat radiating off Marcus's skin, his hands catching him by the broad, metallic-dense muscles of his shoulders to help him stand. "He is the Alpha King of this territory. I don't care what his eyes look like. Help him into th

In fact, I don't believe in fairytales, they are just imaginary illusions that blind us to the reality of life. This man in front of me, who's supposed to be the misunderstood prince is Malakai Lorenzo, mafia king of the biggest underworld organization known in New York, and my father just had to go ahead and gamble all his money to his organization, now my father owes a huge sum of money to this bastard.

I ask walking closer to him, pressing my sword on his chest. "I regret nothing!" He seethes out, struggling against his captor. I chuckle and with a smirk, I pierce my sword through his cold, stone heart. I clean his blood off with my clean hands and there from his stiffed, dead body I take the crown of his head and place it on mine. That's the last thing he'll ever see, my hands bloodied, so much that it drips down all the way to my elbow as I take his crown and my rightful place as the long-lost forgotten king. This does bring a smile to my face.

"They were brutally killed by magicians before the conflict between King Bartholomeo and King Solomon. And it started when we couldn't pay our debts to the magicians, and in return, they killed my family mercilessly and made me a slave so I can pay my debt until the last cent. Since then, I almost cursed all magicians!" Charlotte rode Felipe's anger so he wouldn't notice that she was also a magician. "I heard some news that the King of werewolves named Abaddon attacked them and they plan to take over Solomon's kingdom!" "I'm glad that's the case. We finally turned the table, and the bad deeds they intentionally inflicted on us are returning to them, but how did you gather that information?"

The king asked for a gathering where he was going to hand over bounty to him, but before the day came, he died as he was old and died while sleeping, the king physician said he suffered an illness and it had taken his life, without wasting time, his eldest son was crown king and he refused to give the one quarter of the promised land to the man who did captured the brothers, every elder advised him but he refused, and he said the man was not a citizen of the kingdom, and such gift was dangerous to be given to a stranger, and when the man was interrogated he said he was a citizen, and that he was the statue called keeper, and had been keeping the kingdom from evil a long time ago, he told the

Starving for violence. “Stick to the plan,” I said firmly. “Don’t worry about killing anyone unless you have to. Just create enough chaos to keep everyone distracted while I get what I came for.” Kade, the scarred leader of the rogue warriors, grinned wickedly. “And the king?” I returned the grin. “Don’t touch him. I have plans for him.” Kade gave a nod, then raised his hand. A low growl spread through the group. The signal to get ready.

Their conscience died a thousand deaths as the painful screams of the woman echoed in the silent sanctum. “Cowards” One of the warriors of Alvar gritted under his breath and glared at the feet of his King. Only if this was Alvar, they must have beheaded those monsters by now for even laying their filthy fingers on an innocent. King Thales stayed calm and walked over his anger because he was here to seek help, not to create a feud with the last resolve. Although, his patience was rolling on a thin thread, and he feared that he might lose his calm in the next seconds. Clenching his fists, he moved forward and nodded at a lord that bowed in front of him, wearing a cunning smile.

I'm made of sharp edges and vengeance, and I will not crumble. "Eleven years. You should be more informed," I snap. It's a foolish mistake to irritate a Warrior, but I'm tired of being undermined and treated as a disposable toy. He clenches his fists. He's the perfect impersonation of danger, and for the first time, I wonder who exactly I'm dealing with here. "Careful," the word barely escapes his gritted teeth. "We're done here. I will only answer to your Alpha," my voice comes out cold and detached.

The Jared rogue camp, a festering wound upon the land, sat like a viper ready to strike at the heart of the kingdom. Anya, my lone whisperer in their nest, had promised whispers of discontent, rumors of a brewing coup within the rogue ranks. A charismatic warlord named Scar, Anya claimed, was amassing followers, his ambition gnawing at the fragile unity held together by the aging King Adolph. But were these whispers true, or merely another echo in the vast emptiness of the Deadlands?