God Of Ruin Audiobook Novels & Stories

“Or it just started the war.” They reached the impact zone within minutes. What had once been a forest was now a crater of molten glass and smoking ruin. At its center lay the god. No longer vast. No longer untouchable. Just a towering, broken being of scorched gold and flesh, half-buried in a ring of fire that flickered weakly around him. The god coughed, actually coughed, and blood spilled from his mouth in glowing ribbons. Lyra stepped forward without hesitation. “You feel it now, don’t you?”

the voice said. The battle raged on, the Divine Being and the Destroyer locked in a struggle that shook the world's foundations. Their powers clashed, unleashing a maelstrom of energy. Wren's breath caught as the two titans exchanged blows, their apocalyptic showdown illuminating the darkened landscape. The ground trembled beneath their feet, the skies ablaze with the fury of their conflict. "With a final, mighty blow, the Divine Being struck the Destroyer, banishing it to the depths of the Bottomless Hole, along with its followers," the voice continued.

Verity walked round the table, pulled a chair beside me and sat down, looking at me with great interest. “Inside books?” she whispered, as if we were discussing top secret information. “Before my brain short-circuits. Explain it to me.” “Ok. Listen. Wordswood had libraries everywhere, right?” I closed my book and concentrated on explaining all that Ruin showed me. “Yes.” “And what are libraries or universities running on?” “Books!”

Then— Crash. The sound of fists meeting flesh. Furniture toppling. A grunt. A curse. I flinched. The noise was brutal and raw, along with the unmistakable rhythm of violence. My heels scraped against the gravel as I stumbled backward, and my heart continued to hammer so hard it blurred my thoughts. The sounds from inside grew louder—another crash, a choked cry, the shattering of glass. The night wind howled through the broken stillness, carrying his voice as Mateo’s words replayed in my head, over and over. “I can’t let you leave just yet, Riya…”

BOOOOOOMMMMM “Hahahaha, in that case, I’m looking forward to it! I’m looking forward to the figure you spoke of, O Keeper of the Book of Heaven!” The core of that world shattered, and with it, the world that had once resembled a lifeless wasteland crumbled along with the destruction of that blood-soaked monster. Nothing remained of that world’s ruin—no life, not even the slightest trace that the world had ever existed in that place. With the destruction of yet another world, it signaled that other worlds would meet the same fate without assistance from the upper world or the realm of the gods.

If they had any hand in Elena's death, they wouldn't get the chance to take anyone else from me. A knock interrupted my thoughts—sharp, authoritative. Giovanni. Giovanni walked in, his calm yet menacing presence trailing behind him. He was the best man for the consigliere role. “Buongiorno, Don Gabriele.” I waved a hand lazily, gesturing for him to sit. I went to the small dark table close to the wall and poured some whiskey. The sharp burn came immediately, followed by a warm spread that settled in my chest. And then, the bitter taste slapped hard like a bitch reminding me to get my shit together.

“Together.” The spell reaches its peak. And so do I. My heart stutters once. Twice. Then gives up. I fall to my knees, the world tilting, fading, my magic finally burning through what’s left of me. As I collapse onto the ruined ground, I think—not of war, or gods, or destiny. —but of Cain’s smile. And how loved I was. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Silence. Then— the gods descend. The Moon Goddess looks over the devastation, her silver light reflecting off nothing but ruin.

The scroll in Austin's hands had moved, the ink rearranging itself into new words that had not been there moments before. 'The current cycle shows unprecedented instability. The revenant designated Lumira Duskbane demonstrates resistance to erasure. Recommend immediate termination of narrative thread. Signed, the Creator God.' The parchment crumbled in Austin's fingers, turning to dust that joined the bone fragment ash already coating my skin. "The Creator God knows where we are," I said. Riven's sword cleared its sheath with a sound like a held breath being released. "Then we move."

I croaked, my throat dry and raw. He lifted his head. His eyes were no longer gold or blue; they were a hollow, bruised violet—the color of the runes. "Don't... look... at me," he gasped, his voice a ragged edge of shame. To be the God of War and be reduced to a ritualistic battery was a torture worse than the mountain's collapse.