Progression Fantasy Novels & Stories

They, who dared to scream in the middle of the conjurers' blissful singing, dared to steal the scripture from the wicked creatures who were granted the power to overwrite their destinies — concluded themselves victorious thereon. Knights, commoners, a king, a foreigner held their weapons and desires tight and proud, fighting desperately for the sake of their oppressed race. Among those weapons, was an existence created by one of the seven vassals of destruction herself. That creation, whose nature is most similar to that of the tyrants, stood for the abused—yet treated as a recompense. A century had passed, humans persistently lived, lost and gained, reaped and sowed on loop. However, the fr

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It's all a fantasy. Fable has been my escape. An unhealthy one. A safe pretend world where I could bury myself. Just like how Zee cried after she finished the final Harry Potter book, or how Jamie bases so much of her worth on the fictional version of herself that lives across a thousand Instagram pics, in the comments and likes of a thousand strangers. Just carefully constructed lies to comfort and lull. Dreams.

"You mean the readers aren't finished with us. They want more drama. More blood. More 'Davis' tragedy." ​"They want a Legacy," the girl corrected, pointing her flute toward the horizon. ​Beyond the hill, the "Reality 2.0" city began to change. The buildings didn't turn back into grey blocks, but they began to grow Gothic Spires. The sun didn't set; it turned a deep, blood-red, and a second moon—shattered and glowing—appeared in the sky. ​[GENRE SHIFT: DARK FANTASY REBIRTH.] [OBJECTIVE: PROTECT THE ORIGINALS.]

There was Fenrik, his golden eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, but also a weariness that hadn't been present moments ago. He stood beside someone I didn't recognize, a tall, cloaked figure whose face was obscured by shadow. I saw myself too, in various forms—sometimes wielding a sword with unexpected grace, sometimes cloaked in dark, flowing robes, a crown of thorns resting on my head. In one vision, I stood on a precipice overlooking a vast, shimmering city, flames licking at the horizon. In another, I held a small, glowing orb in my hands, its light pulsing in rhythm with my own accelerated heartbeat.

With each step they take, they draw closer to the heart of the mystery, and the line that separates reality from fantasy becomes ever thinner. The visions persist, their spell unbroken a tapestry of enchantment woven into the new character's consciousness. Intrigue dances like firelight in their eyes, igniting a thirst for understanding that cannot be quenched. Their thoughts are consumed by the images that have taken root, a symphony of colors and shapes that defy logic. The call of curiosity is too strong to resist, and they find themselves drawn into a quest that transcends the boundaries of their everyday life.

"For a bunch of people, it seems. How in the world do I call this in?" Famallumi stepped up to join them, a beaming smile covering his face. Ohlin and Sheehan beside him, their blades still out. "Now this is going to make a great Progression Tale," the apprentice said with just a little too much enthusiasm. "Amazing." Rhychard shook his head and turned to Tryna. "And you're sure he's an elf?" "Rose!"

One carefully drawn boundary at a time. One hundred thirty-two chapters left. And I was finally starting to see the shape of the future. Not chaotic. Not collapsing. But shifting. Toward something better. Slowly. Deliberately. Inevitable. The Silverpaw way. Not fire. Not ash. Foundation. And foundations, once set properly, were very hard to break. Let them try.

Cassy then asked them curiously, "He didn't really disappear, did he?" Steven laughed and Adrian smirked, "No, he didn’t really disappear, it's just that he's moving so fast it feels like it." Steven explained to her as they filled their food tray, "You already know that warriors have unlimited potential unlike mages, so instead of levels, we have tiers, and the more tiers we reach the more our metabolism changes. We become more resistant, and by that I don't only mean endurance, our body is gradually transformed and it becomes as hard as steel. We also become more agile, we move faster, we are stronger, and our eyesight and hearing also improve.

He was also the future alpha after his alpha Alex. It was afternoon when we came from the run, the party arrangements were setting in. “Dreaming of finding your psychopath mate and running away” an irritating voice came from behind which I recognized immediately as my sister, Myla carnell. “ yup. Dreaming of living a life a normal being” “Psychopath”. she exclaimed and went away flipping her hair.