Fallen War God Novels & Stories

Fallen is a race of celestial beings who were sent down to earth either as punishment or as a request made by them, they lose their wings in the process. Aryiks are a race of beings who are half werewolf half angels, they are granted angel lifespans and werewolf powers including a wolf. They also allowed the fallen angels' powers to be passed onto them, however, some of them can only be accessed until their 20th year. Most of the Aryiks born have their werewolf side more prominent than their angel side, therefore, losing their powers. " "Wow, so she's an Aryik," Horia muttered, earning a hum from the moon goddess.

He quickly averted his eyes away from the painting and clasped his hands at Yrian, saying, “Thank you for saving me, Sir.” Yrian explained smilingly, “That’s called the Holy War Gods Pilgrimage. There are countless restrictions integrated into it. The most powerful one can hypnotize and seize your soul.” James looked at Yrian and said, “It’s incredible. A few of them look somewhat familiar to me.” Yrian put his hands behind his back and said smilingly, “Certainly. There’s the God of Curses, Franciscus Yuelan, God of Death, Clayton Sindward, Demon Slayer, Wystov Wharnal, and the Sky God, Darvel Jabbert.

*** Note from the Author: This novel has dark, forced sexual elements, brutality and raw demonic aggression. Please read with caution this is a dark erotica tale. Some elements could be triggering for some. *** “He’s like a king living up on that hill.” Udora remarked to me in a hushed voice. Living in WitchFall Fortress on that hill. Guarding the WitchFall dungeons. I thought bitterly. Having not like the man since he’d accused my friend Mara of being a witch and taken her away.

Jessa’s hands were unsteady as she reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from Clarissa’s pale face, her fingers trembling with the weight of grief and desperation. Clarissa, who had once been a beacon of life and joy, was now still—her eyes closed, her smile gone, her vibrant spirit snuffed out by an unfathomable tragedy. The cruel hand of fate had stolen away someone so precious, someone who had fought for love and freedom, someone who had stood up against an evil that sought to crush them all. Jessa couldn’t understand how it was possible. The pain was too raw, too real, and it seemed like it would consume her if she allowed it. The world had become a darker place without Clari

"Holy crap! Who did they cross? How powerful that person must be. He was able to make the Yacano family." "It must be a mysterious big shot. How could an ordinary person do such a thing? "Hold on. Didn't the Yacanos have a God of War in their family? It was because of that God of War that they got to where they are today!" "That's right! How could the God of War just watch the family fall without doing anything?" "Your information is too outdated. That God of War was demoted by the commander-in-chief of the Fieryn Warriors. He's even been transferred out of the headquarters of the Southern Biskeland War Zone. He's been sent to one of the divisions."

those tears were from the depth of my emotions where it was burning like larva, and in the part that craved to see his face, even if it was just a glimpse of it I cried and held unto my head, cause without him, the world made no sense, no fucking sense at all, and everything felt like a complete lie. God, I really don't know how to describe it perfectly, but it felt like I was put in a war front, and left alone to die....to die cold heartedly

Andrius nodded, then paused before saying, “However, the First War God...” The words ‘orphan daughter’ made it clear that the First War God had already sacrificed himself. As a veteran, Belarus sighed with sorrow at the loss of a great soldier and asked, “How did the First War God sacrifice himself?” “He...” Andrius lowered his voice. “When I went to Murrfield to find the lost temple, I was pursued by the Second War God. The First War God was killed by the Second War God in the former’s attempt to protect me. In addition...”

Plates fell, wine glasses broke, screams echoed in the hall and the crowd rushed out of the hall, their faces pale. “Fucking shoot them all!” I barked, taking out my rifle from behind me, shooting an Italian fucker in between his eyes. Amidst the shooting, my head whipped towards Ava’s direction, only to find her frozen to the ground, her face pale and her Papa was nowhere to be seen. Walter was indeed a bastard! He left his daughter and scampered away in fear for his life. And just before I could do anything, an Italian bastard pushed through the entrance door, pointing a gun towards the direction where Ava stood.

Planets burned. But in this version, Mae stood alone. No Fallen at her side. No balance within the fracture. Only absolute control. The sphere flickered again. Another version appeared. The war ended. Civilizations stabilized. The fracture was divided safely among multiple anchors. Mae did not stand alone. She did not stand above them either.

He was fighting to break him. To break everything. The Warlord’s body burst like a star going supernova, blood boiling into light, bone into fire, soul into something vast and hungry and endless. And when the glare cleared— When the smoke curled away— What stood where he fell wasn’t a man anymore. It was a god. A god made of ash and teeth and ruin, its smile a horizon of knives, its shadow swallowing the world whole. And Kael— Kael was still on his knees, head bowed, black fire flickering like dying embers as the god laughed and laughed and laughed—