Defeated Warrior Novels & Stories

Martial arts. It decides your fate as well as your life and death. The weak is humiliated while the strong looks down on the world. Martial Spirit. The innate talent of the people in the continent is considered as the warrior's soul. It can be said that the achievements of a warrior is closely linked to their martial spirit. There are numerous types of martial spirit. Nature spirits such as fire, ice, hurricanes, lighting, etc. Weapon spirits such as knifes, guns, swords and halberd. Beast spirits such as the white tiger, the crazy rhinoceros, the violent ape and the dragon snake. In addition there are also many powerful soul spirits such as the immortal spirit. The martial spirit, it wil

Gars came and swarm into the field like bees and I felt goosebumps while fighting This was the most irritating and scariest fight of my life. Seven was good, so good that I had hoped that he could crush millions without taking a break. "Davada aveda… savage…ancient breakers…moons of war…" the moon goddess continued chanting while I returned the bone to its position. I was scratched terribly with a claw and I tried turning to block such an attack but I was whooshed so heavily that I landed on a farther place of a tree which made me yell in pain and panic shot through me and I watched the gar removing the sword.

Either way, I was quite sure my warrior would emerge as a winner. Just like my gaze was fixed on the ring, so was Lisa as well. Her whole mind and gaze were completely fixed on the warriors who fought like their lives depended on it. My pack warrior, Jonathan, lunged forward, slashing the other warrior by the thigh. Pleased, I clapped my hands alongside the audience, but Howard was definitely not pleased.

After saying that, I used my leg to put pressure on his until he fell, and then I used my arms to hold him on the ground until he tapped me three times. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s congratulate Luna Elena!” Everyone cheered, and I raised my hand in celebration. It was news worth stunning many of the members. I smirked and glanced at Bryson’s defeated and humiliated face. It's funny how easy I defeated him though, almost killing me to boredom. Then suddenly, while I stared at his defeated face, Prince Deacon's cold appearance flushed in my mind. He's the known god of war. Best of the best. Thinking of that, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if I spar with him.

He skidded across the ground and landed hard on his back. For a second, there was nothing but stunned silence. Then the training ground erupted in whispers. “No way.” “That was unpredictable” The warrior I had just defeated sat up slowly, staring at me with wide eyes before he laughed breathlessly. “Okay,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “I give up.” I smiled slightly. “You’re good. You just left an opening.” He shook his head. “With that last move, I am lucky I can still move” “Oh, that?” I remembered my last hit.

I grabbed the bat from the corner, swinging it experimentally, tasting the metallic weight in my hands. The thought of making them kneel, of forcing obedience, gave me a sick thrill. But then I saw him - my brother, Alpha Roman - arriving with his warriors, eyes sharp, presence commanding. The air seemed to hum with authority, a force stronger than my own, stronger than the fire Rahab and I could muster.

I rolled my eyes ‘like that would ever happen’. I was caught off-guard when he grabbed me by my waist and threw me. I took the support of my hand’s steading myself up ‘fuck, paying dirty, aren’t you’ I backlashed. I was tired, exhausted, fighting 14 skilled warriors wasn’t a joke, I was almost reaching my limit ‘Everything is fair in love and war dear’ he flaunted, pushing aside his cashew-colored hair. ‘Like hell, it is’ I came at him, throwing punches, kicks, but he was strong, not as strong as me though, I smiled, as he looked at me with fear, he knew he had to accept defeat because I had pinned him down.

Eira mentally swore that if she ever found this Armando guy, she might just do something nasty to him. For a second she wondered who he was and so she looked up to find the winner. And there he was. The referee held his hand up announcing him the winner. She couldn't see his face because his entire face was covered in a black mask except for his lips and dark brown eyes. His brown eyes. Dark, bloodthirsty and fierce.

“What do you do now is different from them? Backstabbing is not how I teach you; a true warrior needs to keep his head up and live." "What's wrong with me taking revenge? What they did to me, even if I chop them up a hundred times, I still don't feel satisfied. Do you know? Ten years ago, they broke our homes and separated our families. Ten years later, the old man Titus again took advantage of me; after achieving the goal, on my way back to the pack, he sent someone to chase me and kill me." Violet got mad and punched the tree beside her; the canopy shook, and the leaves rustled like rain. “Have you forgotten the picture when I came here looking for you? My whole body was covered with blood

What kind of women-deprecating shit goes on in this pack? I sigh and shake my head. Then, the first warrior steps forward. He’s a brunette, broad-shouldered, thick-necked, and built like a freight train. He eyes my bloody claws. His gaze lingers on my canines before moving to my eyes. But the bastard’s smile is cocky, the kind that says he’s already decided I’ll last five seconds… ten if he’s feeling generous. As we square up, the air between us sharpens, charged with tension and silent judgment.