Overlord Books Novels & Stories

“Not between obedience and defiance, but between influence and absence.” Elias nodded. “And understand this,” Vale added. “The margin will move.” The door opened behind them, voices passing, footsteps echoing. The institution resumed its rhythm, indifferent and exact. “You won’t be told when it shifts,” Vale said. “You’ll feel it.” Elias did. Even as they left the room, even as the corridor widened and the light changed, the margin remained, an invisible line that ran alongside him, close enough to brush his awareness with every step. He understood now that survival here no longer depended on compliance alone.

I tell him. Flavius nods in response and begins to pack his things. I fill my satchel with various clothing items and few books. "Why are you packing books?" Flavius asks curiously. "Since we are visiting another horde without sending a messenger ahead, I need to bring something that will serve as a gift. Those of the Horde of Fates are known knowledge seekers. I have many books in my private collection that have not been seen since The Fires. They should serve as a suitable present," I say.

He smirked and leaned back on the chair, “A bit small for the ruler of the largest pack in the realm, don't you think?” “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Keyleth stepped to my side, her arms folded against each other. “Tell us about the rot and we might just let you live.” “What shall I call you?” The wolven asked again, the smirk on his face dropped. “Oliver. Just Oliver.” — “Koren?” The word rolled off Keyleth's tongue as the male looked with obvious annoyance. “Soren.” He snapped at her, turning a sharp gaze towards me. “Soren stris, the dark wolven rises, and the realm falls.”

Riley said that blatantly. Hearing this clear and curious explanation, Brockley could only nod several times. On another occasion, Brockley, who had turned twelve years old, then asked for something. “Tell me about the old wars!” Like a history teacher, Riley opened one of the old books that recounted the wars of the BC era. He told about the brave commander who led the war troops. Brockley stood up with a fist clenched. “I will be a warlord too!” he cried in a very loud voice.

I soon became conscious of my blunder when I realized that this Earl, Edgar von Vilavelt was another type of monster. "I have confidence in Your Highness that you shall definitely be able to finish the history of the war of Glavider within a day." The beautiful smiling face of Earl Edgar looked rather haunting to me if you are curious about my opinion. I remember gaping speechlessly at my smiling handsome instructor for the nth time that week and then looked down at the historical book that described the Glaviderial war of crisis, the book was a simple earthy hued cover, warming to the eyes, comforting even, but the thickness of it was not comforting to my state of mind at all.

It might be too much to say that he could turn the situation around, but he could, at the very least, greatly increase the odds of winning rate. A real Overlord was more effective than dozens of partial Overlords in a battle between level 9 civilizations. If Elora knew that David had the soul power of an Overlord, there was a high probability that Elora would convince David to participate in the next battle to defend his homeland!