Defeated Warrior Novels & Stories

I moved with precision, striking down one rogue before spinning to block another’s attack. “Kaida, behind you!” one of the warriors shouted. I ducked just in time, the rogue’s claws swiping inches above my head. Turning, I drove my blade into his side, sending him collapsing to the ground. “We can’t hold them here!” another warrior yelled. “Fall back to the ridge!” I commanded, leading the way as we fought our way through the melee. The rogues pursued us relentlessly, but the warriors held their ground, covering one another as we retreated. By the time we reached the ridge, the rogues had slowed, their snarls fading into the distance.

“Trespassing? This forest belongs to no one. And you… you are weak. I can smell it on you.” The people shifted uncomfortably. A younger warrior stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Watch your tongue. You are one, we are many.” Valen’s eyes flashed. “Then come.” The young warrior attacked first, claws out, teeth bared. But Valen was faster. He sidestepped, grabbed the warrior’s arm, and broke it with a snap. The man screamed, falling to the ground. Another warrior charged, but Valen slashed his throat open. Blood poured as the man collapsed. The others froze, their courage fading.

Laura’s heart dropped the second she heard the name. “Garrick.” A warrior stepped forward from the crowd, and everything about him screamed danger. He moved with deliberate slowness, boots crunching against the packed dirt. His shoulders rolled back lazily, showing off muscle layered over more muscle. Scars crossed his chest and arms—not random marks from accidents, but clean lines that spoke of countless battles. Battles he’d won. This wasn’t some random fighter. This was a veteran and an actual killer.

I whispered, “You were amazing.” He pulled back and beamed at me. “Did you see my roll? And—and how I dodged and flipped him?” “I did! I don’t even think I could have done that,” I laughed, brushing his hair from his face. He puffed his chest. “The warriors say I’m strong. That I’m brave.” I kissed his forehead. “You are. You always have been.” He held up his arm, showing me a fresh tattoo inked onto his forearm. A beautiful phoenix with its wings spread in mid-flight as it stood in flames.

“Because from this day forward, they’ll see you as what you are.” “What’s that?” “My Luna. Their Luna.” I hesitated, then smiled against his shirt. “Then you better start preparing them. Because I’m not exactly the soft, smiling kind of leader.” He pulled back just enough to tilt my chin up. “Good. Because I didn’t fall in love with soft and smiling. I fell in love with a warrior.” “A blind warrior.” “A warrior who sees more than anyone else.” I bit my lip. “You’re going to make me cry.”

I turned. A warrior. Mid twenties. Big through the shoulders in the way that some wolves are who have trained hard since early adolescence and let it make them wide. He was standing about three meters away with a short practice staff held loosely in one hand and an expression that was not quite a smile. I recognized the expression. I had been on the receiving end of it for years in different forms. It was the look of someone who had spotted the person in the room they were allowed to diminish and was deciding whether it was worth the energy.

"They will swarm you. They will use their numbers, their hierarchy, and their cheap political tricks to crush you. If you cannot handle three elite beta warriors in my ring, you will never survive the summit when you return." Before I could even settle into a defensive stance, Vance raised his hand. "Begin." The three warriors didn't hesitate. They moved as a synchronized pack, splitting up instantly to flank me. The largest warrior—a brute named Torin—charged straight down the center, his massive, calloused fists aiming a crushing strike toward my jaw. I ducked beneath his blow, my sneakers slipping slightly on the fresh snow, but as I pivoted to strike his exposed ribs, the second warrior

AUTHOR'S POV: "Ohhhhh our little prince will lose Again," the warrior taunts the 15-year-old Noah. Your mind is a battlefield, be it COMMANDER, not SOLDIER! Noah thwarted the warrior's attack and slash the sword against his chest in a quick zigzag and with a loud swoosh, the armor fell into pieces. The warrior looked at him with fear and shock written on his face. Noah gave him one last look and took off from the training ground.

Charlie continued, “Number two! As a martial artist, you are very strong and tenacious, but you are also very soft and weak on the inside! This proves that you don’t have what it takes to be a martial artist! A warrior is a wolf who dares to fight and is not afraid to die, but in my eyes, you are nothing but a pitiful poodle beneath the tough physique and sharp wolf-like fangs!” Tears flowed down Nanako’s face upon hearing this. Yet, Charlie went on. “Number three! Warriors are soldiers who are not afraid to walk to their death! When they go to the battlefield, they are prepared to shed their blood and sacrifice their lives, but they never jeopardize their dignity! What about you? How dare y

“That just says you don't know hand to hand com-bat.” Hunter said with a smirk when he ran to meet the warrior that was coming his way. When he got close to the warrior he ran up the side of the wall, leaped into the air, flipped over the man’s head wrapped his arms around the man's neck, as he landed on the floor, breaking the man’s neck with sickening cracking sound once his feet hit the floor. The warrior dropped to his knees and Hunter kicked him over like he was trash. He faced the other men who had stopped when they saw what Hunter did to their warrior brother. Realizing that the two men in front of them weren't like the wolves they fought who couldn't harm them, understanding this was