Novel & Cerita Herrscher Of The Void

The First Judge's face changed. Not concern. Something nobody thought he could feel. Fear. And he whispered the name of the being that had existed before gods, before blood and before darkness. "The Void Emperor." The crimson moon above the world shattered completely. And the sky finally broke.

a deep voice said behind me. I startled, half-choked on my drink, and spun around—only to find a tall, broad-shouldered stranger leaning against a nearby tree. He wore black from head to toe, his mask carved with faint silver edges. His voice? Pure sin. Low, smooth, like something meant to be whispered in dark corners. “Oh great,” I muttered. “A woodland stalker. I knew this dress was cursed.” He chuckled, stepping forward slowly. “Didn’t mean to scare you, princess.”

"We aren't running, Emma. We’ve come too far. If your brother is the beacon, then we’ll just have to shut off the power." "Wait," Vincent’s voice echoed from a nearby shadow as he materialized. He looked paler than usual, his obsidian eyes darting toward the falls. "There’s more. The Void-Weaver... he’s not alone. He has a battalion of Hollow-Wolves. Shifters who have been completely drained of their souls and filled with the gas. They don't feel pain. They don't have mercy." I stood up, pulling the violet-and-silver cloak Alessia had woven for me tighter around my shoulders. I looked at my Kings, at the wild wolves of the Deep Woods, and at the two tiny lives I was carrying into the heart o

Delete. "No!" I fought back, my mind a battlefield of violet and grey. "He stays! He is the Father!" I closed my eyes and dived. I wasn't in the Kremlin anymore. I was in the Void—a vast, infinite ocean of data where every thought I’d ever had was a flickering star. I was drifting, my form dissolving into threads of light, pulled toward a massive, swirling nebula of violet energy: the Heir. I was losing the feeling of my skin. I was losing the memory of the rain. I was becoming the Architect of nothing.

".. No. It's just that Her Majesty... and His Majesty the Emperor aren't who the rumors say they are." (Rumours that Azazel and I are such a tyrant rulers? From his perspective, I believe I could understand.) "Allow them to think whatever they want. I'm unconcerned about what others think of me. Think of me whatever you want." I snapped my fingers back, and the ice in the room, including the ice that had frozen both his legs and hands, instantly melted and vanished. "... You.." "I believe you are serious in what you are saying. But I also believe that you're here on someone's order."

Has she been toying with him all along just like he is doing with her? Now that he thinks about that, it was always him who succumbed to her wishes, who let her run wild in this kingdom raising havoc. It's his army, his men who are doing the grunt work; His places where they are keeping the captives; His money which is being used to hire the mercenaries. All that mage is doing is chanting some silly lines, doing some stupid magic tricks any mage can do. Enough! He has let that mortal make him dance on her tune. He, an immortal with centuries of experience.

The guy flinched back in fear. His mind recalled the lost battle. And suddenly he realized where he was and how he ended up there. "S...Silvia?" The man tried and pretended to be unaware but Hunter wasn't having it. With a low growl, his claws extended out and he grabbed that guy's throat letting his claws pierce his skin causing blood to ooze out. "She... She was a seer who helped Alpha Alonso win all the battles," The guy said fearfully.

He finalized " All of it?" I widened my eyes " Your dad is the founder of one of the most richest companies in Crest country , don't be so stingy it's also your responsibility since you put him there in the first place" the officer said " No , not that. I meant his face, all of it?" I asked with a bitter smile. Money wasn't even my concern

This enemy came as a shadow. It oozed from the Veil like ink spilled across a map, dark and formless, crawling over the landscape in a storm of night. Creatures twisted by Morvani’s insatiable hunger, their forms broken and bound by curses so old they predated written memory. They screamed with voices not their own, stolen from those they had consumed. And at the center of it all moved the Void born. Clad in obsidian armour. Eyes blank. Swords forged in cursed fire. Their magic slipped through shields and melted steel, their movements impossibly fluid, like war made elegant.