Doomed Knight Novels & Stories

He didn't want to believe it. Anthony bit his lip, and his eyes trailed to the ground below him. The place looked so ethereal, like a sort of fantastical world. The grass was long beneath him, and the breeze swirled through the blades delicately. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Why?" "I'm sorry I let this happen. I couldn't save you. I tried. I watch you die, George. I tried to save you...avenge you. I thought I was strong enough," The fallen knight stammered out his apology. "I wasn't. I know you probably didn't even want me to fight Solace... I had to. I had to do something." He clenched his fists. "I told myself that even if it was the last thing I did, I would do it for you."

“Let’s just forget the past and start fresh, okay? I’m Damon. Damon Knight.” Damon Knight. The name echoed in my mind, a sudden, chilling recognition. I am so doomed. Bran’s frantic warnings, his frantic blabbering that night, flooded my memory. Damon Knight, the name synonymous with danger, with power, with a reputation that preceded him in the most notorious circles. It couldn’t be. This man, the one who had just assaulted me, the one who had orchestrated this elaborate, confusing night, was The Damon Knight? The thought left me petrified, frozen in place, unable to react.

- I laugh, shaking my head to the side. - You're not worth anything. - I'm worthless? You're here all eager to fuck the lawyer, and I'm worthless. - Don't talk about her like that, man. Ella is not like those women you spend one night with and then say goodbye. - Is that why you're doing everything you can not to surrender to her? Because after what happened you are not willing to get involved with anyone? - Nando touches my wound. I know that you are doing it on purpose, because you know that this is a delicate matter and buried under lock and key.

"You thought you were untouchable, but justice has caught up with you, Beast. Your reign of terror is over." The Beast could only seethe in silence as he watched his empire crumble on the screen before him. He was now the captive audience, and there was no escape from the reality of his own downfall.

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Unlikely, there are knights in the castle far better in swordsmanship than Falstad. “There is no time, princess. They are about to reach this place.” He grabbed her wrist, forcefully dragging her while she tried to struggle. “How dare you!” She yelled, yet gasped the moment she saw the dead—they were bloody, riddled with wounds and bite marks— approaching the passageway. What is happening? She wanted to ask but Falstad spoke of it before she could do so. “A man of dark magic has infiltrated the castle and has already turned most of the guards into this walking pile of death... I am sorry, princess, but we must leave now.”

She seemed too fragile for things like this and I could tell she had amnesia. Mann had just briefed us about what we were to do. It was a one-shot mission, where we had to obtain a shard of the Black Rock from the US Army fort in 1920, Bobby had themed it; Mission Black Rock. With the urgency, Mann operated with, he might have sensed the Rock being used right that moment. Mann had the time and location of where the Black Stone was, and had left the rest of the mission with us but he cautioned us to be vigilant and to expect anything of a likeness to doomsday there, in 1920.

He concluded that the Dragon King from Sol might be as powerful as a Sacred Knight. In Durandal, knights also had various ranks according to their strengths—Bronze Knight, Silver Knight, Golden Knight, Sacred Knight, and Divine Knight. Bronze was the lowest, and Divine was the highest. After estimating James’ strength, the old man waved his hand nonchalantly and said, “He’s not even thirty and shouldn’t be worth the effort of sending a stronger family member to suppress him. Let him do as he pleases. Meanwhile, you should work on getting even stronger.”

Dylan slashed his opponent's wooden sword until it bounced. 'Fuschia, where did you run to?' Dylan was getting angry when he remembered yesterday he failed to find Fuschia for the umpteenth time. “Ugh, this...is too much! How many wooden swords are you going to destroy, Sir Dylan?!” shouted a knight who fell to the ground. "Next." "There's no next person, sir! Everyone you have defeated!” The knights who just lost, whining. Even though he was a senior knight that other fellow knights relied on.

“Safe trip.” “Thank you, darling.” The line went off and the man sighed. “Nothing ever goes well for this man.” The cab driver suddenly spat with a disgusted face. “Karma’s sure taking it hard with him.” His statement drove a million knives into my heart. He turned his radio on and increased the volume. “Reporting live from the Dekoms headquarters.. Sir Rapheal Dekoms has apparently collapsed at his own welcome party and is currently being rushed to the hospital..” This is all my fault!