God Of Malice Novels & Stories

Its body was a shifting, fluid mass of liquid fire and grinding tectonic rock, completely devoid of eyes or a mouth. It didn't roar. It vibrated. A horrific, dissonant screech of grinding stone that ripped through the air, completely separate from the steady, rhythmic pulse of our tether. The people in the plaza screamed, a massive, localized wave of pure terror crashing into Valerius’s grid. I didn't step back. I unclasped my heavy black duster, letting it fall to the burning cobblestones. Elias, I transmitted, my psychic voice cold as ice as the Magma-Beast pulled its massive, molten torso out of the crater, rearing up thirty feet into the twilight sky. Tell Cord to forge weapons. Not tuni

Killian’s physical form collapsed into a heap of grey ash, leaving only the sapphire light of the Void swirling in the air. I didn't let the power dissipate. I turned the spear toward Malachi. "Goddess!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the nebula-sky. "The debt is paid! Take the life from the thief and give it back to the King!" The Goddess watched as the blue energy from Killian began to flow into Malachi. The silver in Malachi’s hair began to recede, replaced by the deep, midnight black I remembered. The lines on his face smoothed out, and the strength returned to his limbs in a sudden, jolting surge.

He didn't have golden eyes; his eyes were glowing red slits of focused, industrial intent. "So," Malak’s voice boomed, sounding like a rock slide. "The 'Glitches' who played God at the Origin-Point. You turned down the First World to stay in this playground. You’ve gone soft on 'Emotional Code' and 'Legacy.' We’ve come to show you what happens when a simulation stops being a dream and starts being a Weapon." The Philosophy of the Iron

Emotions had run wild between now and then; excitement, disbelief, discontent, rage, and now a thoughtful silence pervading the four walls like a thick blanket that lulls her back to the bay of sleep’s arms. Avian dips the feathered tip into the glass bottle and carefully lowers it onto the page where she had left, just beneath the grotesque sketch of an original Lycanthrope she had attempted whilst still in the throes of energy. “… Average of ten feet tall, five hundred pounds of muscle and fur that is impervious to the war instruments of man.” The high priest stands at the front left, his cheeks like emptied udders that tremble with each breath, “tapetum lucidum…” highly sensitised night v

The one-eyed young man's expression suddenly changed. Hatred and malice flashed in his single eye. He sneered and said, "It was just a small mistake last time. Now, you will be completely buried. From now on, there will be no top-five divine halls in the Land of Infinity. The Heaven Path and the continent will become one, and God's Palace will be the only ruler of the world."

Then she whispers, her voice barely audible, "A... God?" I force myself to look away from Rowena for a moment, meeting Diana's horrified gaze. "Not just any god, Diana. Malicar is... pure evil incarnate. He's been imprisoned in the dark realm since the dawn of creation itself." My voice grows heavier with each word. "Every dark emotion, every evil thought that has ever existed in this world—they all feed him. They make him stronger." Diana's face pales further. "How powerful could he possibly be?"

All day it was misfortune for him, and when he thought goddess of luck has smile upon him it turn out it fucking useless old book. still, Theo clutch his heart and started reading the old book, thinking that what surprise he might get after all it was freaking diary of an cultivator. He doesn't know how powerful was that cultivator. Theo started reading the book again, after reading for sometime there was frustrated look in Theo face, anybody who read the book will understand Theo frustration. "fuck", Theo cursed out loud and talk himself," who in the fuck do the same thing for over a week, slightly increasing the number of swinging for over a years, fuck this shit" ,as Theo throw the book d

“That day when you lost to me in the duel, rather than crying to your aunt, had you acknowledged me, you would have known just how easy it is for me to kill you.” I spoke as I raised the top of my sword to his throat, warning him to keep his mouth shut. “Every one of your mistresses sought permission from me first before they warmed your bed because they feared offending me, the daughter of the Grand Duke. And I allowed them so you would keep your paws off me." I could see embarrassment filling his eyes. He gritted his teeth in anger, fists clenched. "I never expected you to be a good husband. I just expected you to be loyal to the Grand Duke. To this Duchy. But you chose the path of arrogan

“Well then, let us dive deeper into the tale of the gods that ruled over this valley. One was the Flugor, the other one was the Vespera, and the third one...the god of mischief was Malum…!” The mere name invoked unnerving anxiety and fear. Some of the people got up, praying to Fulgor for deliverance while heading back to the huts. Blanchett couldn’t help but feel Glinda’s stare connecting with her every few seconds later. She was adamant that this old woman was scanning her from head to toe.

The realm gasped in collective disbelief, for the figure was none other than Malachi himself, risen from the depths of oblivion. A wicked smile twisted across Malachi's face as he surveyed the fated mates before him. "You thought you could vanquish me so easily? How naive," he sneered, his voice dripping with malevolent delight. "Prepare yourselves, for this is only the beginning of your reckoning."