League Legends Zed Novels & Stories

For it was more prudent to do this. “I guess I owe you more now,” the young man lifted his head to reveal his handsome features. His green eyes stared intently at the Brute King’s figure with a bit of adoration. His complexion was darker than a regular inhabitant of the Mainland and his aura carried a great demonic smell. This young man was the last member of the Silver Wolves; the one the others had never met yet only knew; he was the team’s alchemist and the first person on Zandor to experience the Second Awakening; his name was Legion!

Not everyone in this room trusted him. “I’m Zen. No family name, I cut all connections with them. My family now consist of Big brother Wind and big sister Sasha. My speciality is something different from everyone. I’ve never killed before and honestly, I wish for as little meaningless deaths in this game as possible. There is a way to clear this death game with as little casualties as possible. I believe we will be able to clear the VR dungeons faster than Guild Carnage can kill everyone because my special ability is the Gamer.”

Elena's POV Dante Romano's gaze faltered slightly as he looked at the die on my desk. He recognized it immediately, having personally ordered its creation years ago. He had placed a weighted core in it, meticulously engineered to ensure that regardless of how it was thrown, it would always land on the exact same side—one. He raised his hand to rub his temples, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Please quit playing around, Elena. You ought to know how troublesome this case is. If the Romano Famiglia loses its business in Vallenzia, the entire Famiglia's foundation will be shaken.

“We owe you so much more than we can ever repay. The best we can do is give you your proper place, at our table, as one of us.” “You want me to become a Legacy?!” I gasp. I couldn’t be more surprised than if they had told me the Easter Bunny is real and his name is Ted. “You already are a Legacy,” Zephyra comments lazily. “You can’t be MADE a Legacy, you are BORN one. You are an Adare. There has always been an Adare in the seven.” “So you are giving me the seat that should be mine?” Lazarus suddenly sits up very straight and looks over at the rest of them.

Zed sat there, slouched now in the throne, like couch, head resting back, lips slightly parted as he watched the chaotic beauty unravel before him. No more commands. No more fingers pointing. Thanos and Nigel had long since stopped seeking permission. They tangled like instinct made flesh, colliding and melting in new ways, discovering uncharted skin, drawing paths across bodies with mouths and trembling fingers, their sounds echoing into rhythm. But Zed, he was the true storm. Silent, yet shaking.

And the storm we had made, the son of fire and myth, was only just beginning to rise. The last of his army knelt behind him, wounded, panting, broken not just in body, but in will. The rogues were scattered, their madness no match for the fury of a father. The earth itself no longer listened to Zed's command. It listened to another. It thrummed beneath his knees like a heart reborn. He coughed, spat blood, and stared into the firelight where I stood, tall, bloodied, but blazing with a power that could not be forged through conquest. It was the power of legacy.

“Pathetic!” Zephyr laughed as he watched Samson Leed look back at him with a wide-eyed stare. Zephyr was way stronger than Samson ever could be, he had made sure of that. He proceeded to loot the bodies, thus gaining a total amount of 80,000 points thereafter. Zephyr was shocked. “Samson was good, I guess. Most could only get 10,000, yet here he was with eighty!” Although Zephyr had way more points, he still kept Samson’s. Apart from points, Zephyr also kept some tools and skills from them.

Another male speaker takes over the stage. The audience raises their fan boards, ready to fill fire and fuel to the stage. Roughly count, half of the zombies in the arena side with the lord's child. The only one who truly supports Akira is his one and only friend and a stranger named Soo-ho, secretly praying for his success. The speaker coughs a quick whiff before advancing his announcement. "Here! On the left side! Vladimir Petrov, the first in line heir for the Crown's Estate! One of the strongest and the youngest fighter, known by the world! Shout out to our Cham.pi.on! "

Hayden’s fingers were already flying across the screen when it was our turn. “Neeoo, pick Floryn. Cover me,” he said quickly to Zion. “Roger that,” Zion replied. The draft was locked in. Our lineup: Hayden: Hayabusa (Jungler) Zion: Floryn (Roamer) Me (Flammee): Beatrix (Gold Lane) Finley: Pharsa (Mid Lane) Adonis: Gatotkaca (Exp Lane) The game kicked off—and early game was hell. The enemy team went full-on aggro. Their jungler invaded our blue buff, and I needed items fast if I wanted to deal real damage. Zion almost missed a clutch ult on Hayden, but stayed calm, and his voice kept me grounded.

Troy angrily yelled, using both hands to hold my neck. "Are you threatening me?" Alpha Zedex's voice was low and daring. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my throat felt like it was being crushed. "Don't push—" Troy started to say. "Kill her!" Alpha Zedex snapped, shocking everyone, causing even Troy's grip to loosen due to shock slightly. My heart raced with horror. His command to kill me, delivered with such casual indifference, made my heart sink down my stomach. Could Zedex’s command be a buff? or was he really intent on seeing me dead? Just the thought of being a pawn of a deadly game and disposable sent chills down my spine.