Eren Yeager Kill Count Novels & Stories

He said slowly, "Nothing, I just want your life." "No! You can't kill me. The Saber Owner of the Heavens is my grandmaster. If you kill me, he will…" Swoosh! Following the sound of wind being cut, both of Yeager’s hands held on to his neck. His eyes were wide open, and his face was plastered with a dissatisfied look. It was as if he could not believe that he had died just like that. Subsequently, Yeager dropped to the ground. It was impossible for him to stay alive.

Always planning escape routes. Konstantin pulls up a holographic display. It shows the locations where hybrids have been spotted. Five red dots scattered across a map of North America. "Number Seven was here, in Riverside. Nineteen confirmed kills." He points to other locations. "Number Four was spotted in Vancouver. Seven kills. Number Nine in Denver. Twelve kills. Number Twelve in Atlanta. Twenty-three kills. Number Fifteen in Austin. Five kills." "Sixty-six people dead," I breathe. "In how long?"

“This… How many people have you killed?” “Grandma Herodias.” Jacopo knelt, facing Yegor and Herodias. “During my training, I’ve killed 389 cultivators, whose cultivation ranks are in and above the Yuraeceon Daelm Rankʼs Eighth Tribulation. “Among them, there are 75 Yuraeceon Daelm Rankʼs Ninth Tribulation cultivators and six Yuraeceon Daelm Rankʼs Ninth Tribulation cultivators at the peak of their powers.”

"What? Which Mr. Yeager?" Sean frowned as he sat up from the bed. "Brock Yeager," one of Brock's men reported. Sean was stunned. After regaining his calmness, he asked cautiously, "How did he die?" "He died from a heart attack at 1 a.m. He has already stopped breathing when he was sent to the hospital. The doctor couldn't save him," Brock's subordinate reported. "Okay, I understand. Send me the address and I'll come over now," Sean said in a deep voice and hung up the phone.

Too close. “Casualty report,” I demand, my voice sharp as a blade. Roran clears his throat. My second-in-command stands to my right, his expression grim. “Seven dead. Four more badly injured. Two of the wounded won’t survive the night.” The words hit like physical blows, though I don’t let it show. An Alpha cannot flinch. “And the rogues?” “Six confirmed kills. Three escaped.” His jaw tightens. “We tracked them as far as the eastern ridge, but they vanished. It’s as if they knew the terrain better than we did.”

KAEL I stared at the stack of reports on my desk, each page with numbers representing lives lost and battles fought. Two weeks had passed since the Feral attacks, and we were still counting our dead. "Fifty-three warriors killed in action," Tobias said, standing at attention as he delivered his analysis. "Another seventy-two wounded, eighteen of them critically. We lost four healers who were trying to evacuate civilians."

“Yes, I have to. I have to know.” He searched her face and found whatever he was looking for. After taking the holopad from her hands gently, he spent almost a minute swiping until he found the right document. He hesitated for a second, then handed it over to Nyla. “No matter what it says, you’re still Nyla. You’re still my Nyla, the girl I love, okay? Nothing can change that.” Nyla nodded absently, already skimming the report. There was only one thing she was looking for, and her eyes froze the second they landed on the number. Confirmed Kill Count: 101,549. Revulsion cascaded through her.

Calla I returned to the compound thirty minutes later. The sixth death had just occurred. Mikhail. A warrior I'd trained personally. Dead in the barracks, black veins spreading across his skin while his unit watched helplessly. Twenty-three minutes after Elena. The pattern was accelerating faster than anyone predicted. At this rate, we'd all be dead by morning. I found Kharo in his office, staring at casualty reports with hollow eyes. "Six," he said without looking up. "Six dead in less than eight hours."

I asked, my eyes moving around the nurse's station at the end of the hallway. How many did our pack members died? He sighed and I knew that he didn't have food news to give me. "33." I took a deep breath and nodded at him. Thirty-three? Thirty-three loyal pack members who died today at the hands of the rogues. Thirty-three members had come to celebrate the birth of Katelyn and ended up getting killed themselves. I opened my mouth to say something but suddenly a sharp pain sliced through my chest, which left me gasping. I staggered on my unsteady feet and gasped as waves of horrible pain struck my chest.

His hands were shaking. And I understood. The thing he was still hiding. The secret Theo warned him about. The weight I felt pressing down on him every time we were close. His people were dying. And he had been carrying that alone. "How many?" My voice came out steady. Iron. The voice of a girl who was done running and ready to fight. Jax's jaw tightened. "Two confirmed dead. Fifty-one remaining. He's killing one every six hours until he gets what he wants." "What does he want?"