Overlord Vol 13 Novels & Stories

His voice whispered that this was just another test—one of many that she would face on her journey. As the night wore on, the moon gradually descended in the sky, its luminous glow waning. And as the first light of dawn began to paint the horizon, Rithanya's weary eyes lingered on the final pages of her textbook. She closed it with a sense of accomplishment, her heart swelling with the knowledge that she had done her best.

"Kid, you may be good at fighting, but I work under Fifteenth Overlord! Do you want to die?" Despite being left at Felix's mercy, Trevor still spoke arrogantly. "If you weren't Fifteenth Overlord's pawn, I wouldn't have come here. Come on. Take me to him." Felix grinned. There was a flash of confusion in Trevor's eyes. He thought he had heard Felix wrongly. Did Felix really dare provoke Fifteenth Overlord? No one in the whole of Monaire dared do this, yet Felix… As they were heading to Fifteenth Overlord, Felix turned to Trevor with a grin. "So… Does Fifteenth Overlord have many connections, or is he just powerful?"

“David, how daring of you! How dare you call the Overlords by their first names. You must be tired of living. Don’t drag me down if you want to die. I never said that an Overlord was supporting me. Using the Overlords’ names is a capital crime. Everyone knows that the five Overlords have not been involved in world affairs for many years. They will only appear when Leila is in crisis or there is serious internal strife. If you want to harm me, you should at least come up with a believable idea!” Ambrose yelled at David.

“You stopped being my brother the moment you sacrificed everything for power. You’re a monster now, nothing more.” The Overlord’s fury reached a fever pitch, his hands trembling with raw, dark energy. He knew he was going to lose. His power was fading, his amulet destroyed, and now, even his closest ally had turned against him. But in his desperation, he wasn’t done. With a snarl, the Overlord thrust his hand forward, dark magic spiraling toward Alisa and the beta with terrifying speed. I barely had time to react, but Rolan did. Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw himself in front of Alisa, his body shielding her from the oncoming blast.

(Elijah) Although her voice were calm and had a tinged of caring in it, only Mies knew that she were actually angry at him. “[…..We found the Lich, the threat of the Lich has been neutralized…but another thing rise up…We encounter another Overlord in this place…Overlord of the Underwater, Chutullusia…wait, I’ll send a photo of it…there do you got it?…]..”. (President Mies)

I feel like my head is going to burst from the overload of information. First, Jake helps Thea fight against Davis, who’s been working with that witch Thalia. Then, he moves with his whole pack to Colorado. He’s approached by Cornelia, Thalia’s sister to help them overthrow Ren. He stays near me my whole life, waiting for me to be old enough to get marked in order to weaken my man so that he could be killed. When that doesn’t work, he goes after Hunter and, using his hybrid blood, tries to create an army to bring Ren down. Once again, his plan doesn’t work as Hunter frees himself and kills everyone who had a hand in his torture.

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.

Pride, responsibility, loyalty, trust—it all balanced on the edge of the coming challenge. And then, a voice, distant yet clear, carried across the ridge. A deep, commanding growl that I had not heard before. Not an Omega, not one of ours. An Alpha. A rival. The forest went silent.

“What now?” I turn toward him, eyes burning with shadow and flame. “Now,” I say, “we prepare for the One.” ** Jason Brad’s eyes are wrong. Not just dark. Not just angry. Wrong. Like something ancient is staring out through them, wearing his face like a mask. He stands in the center of the cabin, shadows crawling up his arms like living ink, the prophecy book clutched in his hand. The air hums with power, cold, hungry, unnatural. I swallow hard. “Brad… what now?”