Golden Saint Oblivion Novels & Stories

He got up from the Obsidian Throne, his great frame towering over the room, his presence demanding all reverence. "So says the Heir of the Eclipse." Caelum's voice echoed like rolling thunder. The Great Covenant of the Jade Sea is thus agreed upon. The Blood-Iron Dominion is dissolved. Henceforth, the Eastern Archipelagos shall be known as the Isles of the Golden Tide, bound under the law and protection of the Sovereign Crown of Obsidian Ridge!" Elder Sorus pressed his forehead to the cold stone floor, tears of relief leaking from his eyes. "May the Sun and Shadow reign for ten thousand years!"

My royal light flared out in a brilliant, twenty-foot dome of blinding white and golden-red fire, scorching the black ash beneath my boots and burning away the violet mist for yards around us. "I am coming for you, Gideon," I declared, my voice hardening into an unshakeable oath that shook the surrounding bone spires. "And not even the King of the Underworld can keep you from me." Without another second of hesitation, I broke into a full sprint, charging straight up the jagged stone causeway leading to the heavy iron gates of the Obsidian Citadel.

The primal warriors were pouring into the valley, destroying everything in their path. And in the center of the fleet, on the largest ship—the Oblivion—stood the Forgotten. He was tall, with skin like obsidian, his eyes like purple fire. He looked up at Cole and smiled. You’re too late, he said, his voice echoing in Cole’s mind. Your world is already lost. He raised his hand, and a wave of primal energy shot out, striking the ledge. The ground crumbled beneath them, and Cole and the others fell.

“Hahahahaha! “The Divine Constabulary. You actually chased me to the Golden Tower in a small town like Morro. You really have nothing else better to do than to start panicking, huh? What a pity, an insignificant Mystic rank warrior like you. What did you think you could find here? Since you dared to come out here, then you must have prepared to stay here!” Giovanni sneered. He turned the gun’s muzzle to aim it at Soraya before pulling the trigger without hesitation.

A shimmer of moonlight on steel. Elira’s dagger was in her hand instantly. “We’re not alone.” Figures emerged from the shadows—tall, cloaked, their eyes glinting like stars. Their movements were silent, precise, deadly. Elves. One stepped forward, lowering his hood. His hair was gold as wheat, his features sharp and cold. His gaze swept over Kaelen before settling on Elira. “Liraethiel,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “You’ve broken exile.”

The silver fountain didn't just boil; it exploded. The liquid mercury flooded the ballroom floor, moving like a sentient tide toward Panni and Jinyan. The Digital Saint merged with the tide, becoming a towering wave of sharp, metallic blades and sonic shrieks. "Target: Termination," the wave whispered. "Jinyan, get to Grace!" Panni shouted, pushing him toward the stairs of the observation booth. "I’m not leaving you!"

At the Hollow Sovereign. At Kael. Then finally— At Lyra. Something ancient stirred behind his mismatched eyes. Recognition. Interest. And something far more dangerous. A faint smile appeared on his lips. "After all this time..." His voice was soft. Beautiful. Wrong. The shadows throughout the sanctuary bent toward him. The silver flames dimmed. Even the Heart seemed to hesitate. The Sovereign of Oblivion had awakened. And he looked delighted to see them.

He whispered. Nemyra’s voice was low when she spoke, her hand tightening around his. “This is the other side of the Tower of Oblivion. We call it The Silent Land. It is where the vanishing gods go… to fade quietly. To wait for their end.” Before Prince Ron could respond, a sharp, agonized cry split the silence. One of the gods—a woman with thin strands of grey hair weakly clinging to her scalp, fell to her knees. She sobbed violently, her cries echoing across the empty sky. “No… no… not yet… please, not yet.”

The silver-gold tattoos on his neck burned with the intensity of a dying star. Caleb roared—a sound that vibrated not through the water, but through the very fabric of reality. He pushed. The ocean floor trembled. The massive jade gates groaned, a sound like grinding continents, and slowly began to part. A blinding, pure golden light spilled out, cutting through the abyssal darkness. "Move," Caleb commanded, stepping through the crack. The fifty Star-Forged Lycans followed their King. The moment they crossed the threshold, the physics of the world violently snapped.

the Crimson Flame Lord snapped in his sharp, grating voice. He continued, "This place can't be fake. I refuse to believe that. And honestly, it doesn't even matter. Even if nothing activates, this gold alone made the trip worth it. I'll just kill the rest of them, take the Greene family's Saintess, and eventually, I'll pry the secret of her immortality right out of her." Shiloh's gaze went ice-cold, but she held her tongue for now. Suddenly, the piles of gold and silver around the room began to flicker. Every last coin, every bar, every glittering heap started radiating light all at once, flooding the chamber in a blinding blaze.