Emperor's Champion Novels & Stories

I’m in Cillian Veyne’s body, lean, chiseled, cock annoyingly sensitive as always, dressed in a silver-embroidered black suit that screams scholarly power. My harem flanks me: Ardyn, regal in gold, emerald eyes scanning the crowd; Kaelen, stormy gaze softened but obsessive, hand brushing mine. Zane, silver hair tied back, rogue smirk sharp as he eyes the exits. My fangirl heart’s losing it. The emperor and empress in the flesh! Emperor Valtor, broad-shouldered with a gray-streaked beard, exudes authority, his crown glinting as he toasts our victory.

Even as he slammed into her at last, plunging her into whimpering ecstasy, even as he pushed her toward the limit again and again, as his teeth bore into her bottom lip and he pounded every scrap of thought and fear out of her, she felt the difference. This was lovemaking. Rough, dominating. Real. “You’re mine, Raven,” he hissed, exploding through her with another hard thrust. His hot balls squeezed against her as he bottomed out, filling her, Owning her. She knew what that meant now, fully: she was part of his empire. And what was his was precious to him. Not simple possession—but value. “I’m yours,” she gasped, almost crying around the need to cum. “I’m—arghh—yours…”

And at the highest row, shrouded in darker garments —Caligo observers that have sharp eyes, quiet and watchful. Her breath hitched. She looked ahead—and her stomach dropped. The Emperor and Empress stood at the center of the arena. Emperor Priam—forty-two, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair slicked back, his sharp jawline shadowed by a short beard. His presence was cold and overwhelming. His deep, unreadable eyes locked onto Alessia the moment she entered. Empress Ariadne—late thirties, poised as if carved from royal marble. Her hair, dark brown and intricately braided, glimmered with embedded moonstone pins. Her gaze held both intellect and scrutiny.

The air of authority within the main hall was so commanding it made people fall to their knees. The emperor, dressed in his battle armor, sat on his throne. His four-meter-tall stature made him look like a giant and the ax in his hand exuded a chilling murderous intent. "He's here, Your Majesty." The godkings stepped aside, allowing Adrian to come forward. Adrian felt like a toothpick standing before a giant. "Do you remember me, my subject?" the emperor asked coldly as he stared at Adrian. "No, I don't." The emperor snickered. "But I remember you. Tell me. How long has it been since you and that woman betrayed me? I'm surprised you managed to survive this long."

Crossing one leg over the other, she lightly tapped the armrest with her fingers. There wasn't the slightest hint of nervousness on her face. The Emperor watched silently. When did she become... this imposing? Even Ian frowned. She's changed... Far more than I imagined. The Barbarian King stood. "Our champions are ready." He gestured proudly. "My son, Crown Prince Rendon..." "...for the weapon duel." "My nephew..." "...for the magic duel." "And my military commander..." "...for hand-to-hand combat." The Emperor nodded. The Emperor also selected three representatives.

I imagined eyes watching me from the dark, eyes of people who would know me, eyes of those sent to find the Emperor’s mysterious helper. My mind played the beggar’s words over and over: "The Emperor… marrying the girl who saved him… Liora…" How simple it was, how impossible, it was almost funny. If only they knew. If only *he* knew. The Emperor, the powerful ruler of Kaldor, was about to marry a lie without knowing it. And the person who had made that lie happen was now running away, scared of what would happen.

She asked in annoyance and gnashed her teeth to stop herself from being rude. "You were drinking again, weren't you?" The voice was stern, bold and alarming, which was scarier than a lion's roar. That voice could keep people on their toes. A husky old man with a scruffy white beard resembling him to Santa Claus, except that he was a much scarier version of him which would make children run for the hills. Her grandfather Benjamin Winchester was the chairperson of the multinational company 'Royal Steel'.Nicknamed 'The Man of Steel' because of his temperament as tough as steel.

The crowd grew silent. "Now there has been talk of werewolves being seen in our forests and I would like to officially shut that rumor down. We all know werewolves do not reside in our lands. I'm sure a regular wolf was seen or maybe one of those cute dogs. But I assure you there is nothing to worry about. I have control of everything. Questions?" "When will you choose an Emperor?" "Anywhere between a month and never." I smiled. "Have you mastered all the elements?" "Have you mastered chewing with your mouth closed?"

Everyone wanted to know the guy with no expression on his lower face and a black mask covering his upper face who could dance too well to be a mafian. Curiosity. That's what is going to make them so invested. That's what is going to make me so announced. I, Ariel Winter D'Angelo, the next ruler of the Empire. I'd finally gotten what I wanted. What I spent 12 years of my life targeting. My hand went to my leg in that instant and I swiftly removed the knife which I had placed there in the restroom. With the last beautiful and glorious turn, I pulled closer to The Viper's chest and sent the knife in.

And there, sitting on a throne of liquid gold, was the Emperor of the East. ​He did not look like the man Lin had described. He was young, his features sharp and beautiful, his skin a radiant bronze. But his eyes were not human. They were two perfect spheres of emerald glass, reflecting the entire room in a thousand different facets. ​“You are late, Winifred,” the Emperor said, his voice echoing with the resonance of a thousand bells. ​“Where is the Emperor?” I demanded, stepping in front of Winnie.