Novelas y relatos de Berserk Apostles

Her eyes widen as she stands up from her seat, “That was it! They were outnumbered because not all of the berserkers were there!” The three Alphas exchanged knowing looks, understanding Callista's thoughts. Transforming into their werewolf forms, they sprinted towards the cabin, sensing the imminent danger that had disrupted their connection earlier. Upon arrival, they found Payne's Betas locked in combat with Berserkers, genetically enhanced adversaries who posed a formidable challenge even for skilled Betas. Just in time, the three Alphas joined the fray, supported by Callista, Raina, Moriarty, and Dimitri.

"You’ve arrived just in time for the 'Execution'." ​The Battle of the Apostles ​The Apostles moved with a speed that defied the Vanes' senses. Kaelen, recovered from the initial hack, engaged the lead Apostle. Their collision sent a shockwave of silver and red light through the atrium. Kaelen wasn't just punching; he was "Overloading" the Apostle’s data-stream with raw, physical force. ​"You can't... delete... a mountain!" Kaelen roared, his fists glowing with the last of his silver-metal resonance.

Rowan's territory was indeed remote and desolate, but it was nothing like I'd imagined. Word had spread that Rowan and I were coming, because many beastmen crowded the roadside holding gifts they wanted to present to us. They all looked well-fed and healthy, their eyes bright. Even the little ones and elderly were plump and rosy-cheeked. Since the apocalypse began, all the clans had struggled to survive. Food was barely enough to get by, and many older beastmen had starved to death. Those who survived were skin and bones. However, everything was completely different here.

With one final, powerful thrust, I was marked as his Apostle. "I need to swallow your seed," he whispered, and I did. He lowered me, then knelt before me, sucking me to another climax. As I spilled inside his throat, a mark bloomed on my pelvis, the unmistakable sign of the God of Lust’s Apostle. Panting, we leaned back against the tree, him pulling me close between his legs. "Listen well, my dear Apostle Heron. The power I granted you is unique. Unlike other Gods and Goddesses whose healing magic is external, their Apostles only need to focus divine power on wounds. It demands great strength and faith."

“Just a scratch.” “We need to fall back to the eastern line. Rowan’s trying to regroup.” “No time,” he growls, eyes darting toward the hill. “They’re bringing the berserkers.” My blood chills. The berserkers. Rowan told me they are Nightowl’s most unstable fighters. Feral. Rabid. Uncontrollable. “Kaia!” Rhea shouts from the rooftop. “We need you, NOW!” I see her then, surrounded by three berserkers, each the size of a tree, foam dripping from their jaws.

Bacchus boringly looks at him and say, “And what have you done? I heard Black Dragon’s sisters escaped from your grasp. You are no match even to little girls, huh?” Apollo sharply turns to him, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?! AND YOU ARE A WIMP! You are five against only one and yet you can’t kill Black Dragon!” “He’s not alone. He got a whole team too.” Bacchus quietly answers back. “So you admit you are no match to them? I THOUGHT YOU ARE THE BEST OLYMPUS GANG MEMBERS?!” Apollo shouts back. “I thought you are?” Bacchus calmly fires back. “WHY YOU, MOTHERFU—” Apollo started but Hercules interrupted him.