Bone Kings Novels & Stories

Year 801, Day 48. Map on the table. 7 Kingdoms. 6 white. 1 black. Bone Kingdom. 49% white, 51% black. The only place that voted to keep Command. Not because they loved it. Because they were afraid to stop. Its King, Kargoth Bone, 60 years old. Never lost a war. Never asked a question. His order that morning, shouted to his 20,000: “Obsidian lies. Asking is weakness.

The candles flickered, casting shadows that reached like arms. Outside, the fog had returned. It crept under the cracks in the Bone House walls, quiet and slow. Underneath their boots, the floorboards trembled. Just once. A heartbeat in the bones. And they all knew: the dreams were only the beginning. Something old had noticed them. And it had started to listen.

he whispered and we followed him underground into the basement which was brighter—quite spacious. There, lay Winston all covered in blood. Chains shackled his legs and hands to bars cemented on the wall—The poor thing~ “That’s not fair,” I said sarcastically. Felix humphed. “What’s fair in this life, My Lady?” He went over and poured him a bucket of icy water that woke him. “Get up, daddy is home.”

"Really? Then it seems that only the King of Beasts hasn't appeared yet, has it?" Just as the Blood Bat King was about to continue speaking, a look of surprise appeared on his pale, colorless face as he suddenly glanced at the Bones King. "Hey, you seem to be injured? And your injuries are not light?" At this moment, the white skeleton, whose whole body was covered in the red light of flesh, was greatly damaged. There were even cracks in the bones on its body. Obviously, it had suffered a serious attack.

He then motioned us to come closer. “Hello.” I waved at him and grinned while we walked towards him. On the huge wooden table, there were stacks of obsidians, and a heap of black-coloured bones of different parts. They looked a bit different from a human’s bones, albeit the structure looks almost the same.

It seemed that there was a destructive war here. On the ground of the ancient palace were broken swords, broken armors, and some white skeletons, which scattered on the ground and some of them were burning with ghost flames. These bones had existed for so many years. Judging from this, they had to be, at least, congenital grandmasters when they were alive. Besides, none of these bones were complete. They were all died in battles. Some fractured skulls, some fractured cervical vertebrae, some were cut into two pieces in the middle, and some sternum was completely broken...

Every time he moved, Banjee would shatter a large group of skeleton soldiers into pieces. Barbarian King was the same; there was infinite power emanating from his fists. He transformed into a meat grinder as he rampaged through the skeleton soldiers in the area. Those soldiers would be shattered into pieces wherever he went.

I twisted my hips and jerked my knee up, aiming for his groin. He anticipated it. He shifted his hip with lazy precision, blocking the blow with his thigh, his body moving faster than humanly possible. A low, dangerous snarl ripped from his throat, his lips curling back to reveal teeth that gleamed white in the darkness. They were too sharp. Too long. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the haze of confusion. What is he?

Joslyn felt her heart rate speed up involuntarily as she noticed the change in his demeanor. Gabriel held her gaze steadily as he performed a set on the lat pulldown machine, the muscles in his back and arms flexing with each repetition. His confident movements and the subtle display of strength commanded Joslyn's attention, leaving her momentarily captivated by his presence. As he finished his set and released the bar, he wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel before beginning to make his way towards her.

​Lyra stared into the shadowed hollow beneath the throne, her gaze snagged on the relic the old texts simply called the Bone Crown. For generations, they had passed down the names like heirlooms—a curse, a prison, an ancient piece of iron that kings feared and Bearers died to carry. But none of them had ever understood its true shape. It hadn't been forged to rule or to break; it had been hammered into existence to kill whatever was currently looking back at her through the dark. And somehow, through some cruel trick of blood and momentum, she had just dragged it back to the land of the living.