Fantasy Western Novels & Stories

I keep dreaming about him when ever he promises to visit. Why? My plan to get Dave didn't work but Jane or should I say vikander did it all for me. Even though Dave and I aren't together I know we will be very soon. Vikander such an evil name, well, jane turned out to be a gold digger just as Melissa but worst. She and her parents tried to get rid of the Wests, that said they killed their son which turned out to be a lie. Her dad hatred was because Mr West refused to give shares to him. But why would he, he knows that he was evil.

But here at Dawnsville, he was still as overprotective and caring as ever, but the seriousness disappeared into the thin air. “This place is really something else. It's just like I’m not putting on anything. It feels like the cold is hitting my skin directly, but then I’m cladded up in a coat and a piece of thick animal skin boots on my feet.” I shivered as the cold wind howled again. “That's how the west lands have always been, the wind never stops.” Cassio commented. I wondered how the witch survives here. She must be using some kind of magic or spells. There weren't any signs of living creatures here, nor food, nor water. Was the witch an immortal?.

I lunged into the fray, my shadow form rematerializing around me like a shroud of solid night, my phantom claws carving a path of pure devastation through the panicked ranks. The Western soldiers, completely demoralized by the sudden destruction of their machine, turned and fled in a chaotic frenzy, their disciplined formations completely shattering as our northern wolves ruthlessly pushed the invaders backward, forcing thousands of screaming men off the narrow ledges and directly into the raging, icy torrents of the border river below.

"Just imagine the scene. Me, walking down the steps of a saloon. A fantastic specimen of an Alpha male leaning against a fence as the setting sun illuminates his golden, sweaty skin..." "Oh yeah, sweaty," I reply, wrinkling my nose. "Shh! Don't spoil my fantasy! I'm into it right now," she immediately cuts me off, raising a hand in the air. "So, I was saying, a cowboy, preferably shirtless." "Obviously shirtless," I repeat. "Obviously," she repeats, shaking her head. "Thick black hair, green eyes... jeans hanging dangerously low on his hips." "Aaaaah," I say, opening my mouth wide. "Because of all the cowboys in the West, you're bound to run into the one who doesn't wear a shirt or a belt!"

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

Western audiences would probably read the same silhouette as a priest. Godbreaker was fundamentally a cultivation-fantasy game; she couldn’t exactly reskin every monk character into a generic Western archetype for the international build. In her last life, this exact problem had eaten months of her time without resolution. This time, she already had the fix: introduce new characters, new questlines, new zones entirely. Brand-new content, carrying genuine Western flavor without diluting the game’s core Eastern identity. For example the traveling monk character Cassian, originally slated for a much later patch in her last life, was already taking shape now, alongside a new companion character:

“It doesn't matter. It was one time, and I never did it again.” “That's not a good enough answer. How do you expect me to be honest when you're not?” I asked angrily. He grimaced. “You remember my cousin Jamie?” “Yes?” I asked, confused. “He's been running weed from Colorado to California. He told me if I did a few runs for him, it'd pay out a lot of money, so I did. I thought for sure that I was caught when I got pulled over. I got lucky they didn't search the truck because I easily had a hundred pounds. I made just enough to save the ranch, so I quit. I figured my luck would run out at some point. It usually does,” River muttered.

Just want to say that before that, I was really into Xuanhuan, Cultivation stories (Chinese web novel genres), which was roughly translated/called Eastern Fantasy by many people. However, time came when I got tired of usual tropes. If you were familiar with the genre, you would know then how long the chapters were and how repetitive it could become. Also, I became a bit peeved that they called it Eastern Fantasy, when in fact there are just so much more about eastern fantasy than cultivation and Chinese mythologies. Eastern means the whole of Eastern part of the globe. My country, Philippines is definitely part of it. There are many other nations that are part of it. In short, it is not only

Alex The wolf community was under a new threat. At first, when I heard I thought it was a joke, but too many settlements had been sacked for it to be a joke. Rumour had it that a silver spirit wolf had been attacking the settlements in search of another spirit wolf. Instead of moving on to the next settlement when it didn't find what it was looking for, it would attack and kill the pack members.

What if whoever is using this magick wants to hurt us? They don't. They want us. But not to hurt... How can you be so sure? Before I could say anything else, I was standing on the outskirts of the encampment, staring into the dark forest straight ahead. A moment later, I watched in shock and surprise as a tall, dark figure stepped forward, seeming to melt out of the darkness. I felt a flush grow on my face as his features were revealed from the glow of the flames that were lit around the entrance to the camp. While I couldn't make out the exact color of his eyes, they seemed to switch between a rich wine red to a fiery orange with the flames movement. His hair was dark and jagged--just like