Quotes From Lord Of War Novels & Stories

In oath. Sirelia’s eyes glowed faintly as she drew her sword and pointed it skyward. Lightning cracked. And from the clouds, ash began to fall. Her final words rang like prophecy: “Let the war begin. Not to rule. But to rewrite.”

“You said you were ready to die. You went on about having this crazy fantasy about a killer with striking honey brown eyes and statuesque build make him appear radiant and perfectly dashing.” “Yeah… but have you seen you? You don’t fit the description. You look like you were drawn with a shaky hand. I refuse to remain perpetually miserable as I march towards the afterlife.” “You deceitful bitch…” my opponent screams angrily. “It’s called a strategy. First rule of war… never trust your enemy.” “Goodbye, Mr. Bald Man.”

He looked down at the Warzone Masters and War Gods below and said, “Declare war! Exterminate Andrius and the Lycantroops! “Go and make the preparations!”

The flames of revenge were erupting from their bloodshot eyes. Lord Charles didn’t feel the fear anymore. He foresaw the future when the soldier was reading the dreadful message to them. They may die on this date, but they will die fighting. He stepped forward and scoffed. “Dream on.” The moment his lips parted to roar those words. Immense courage wafted from the bulky bodies of the warriors of Alvar. The screamed and yelled in unison, showing their defiance.

He stood tall, immovable, his silhouette carved against the lantern light like a verdict the world itself had no choice but to obey. When he spoke, it was not a statement. Not even a declaration. It was the truth. “I…”His voice dropped, deep and resonant, vibrating through bone and breath. “…AM THE GOD OF WAR.” The tent felt it… the wooden beams, the ground underneath, everything seemed to tremble under the force of that certainty. Even the flames bowed, shrinking lower as if in reverence… or perhaps fear. A heartbeat later… Lucien slammed his fist against the table. Maps jumped. Ink pots rattled. It was a sound that didn’t just echo… it promised death.

He'll never forget how he escaped that day. "Great gods, they are the ones who killed your most loyal servants that day," Thomas pointed to Flaming Qilin and Yan Wushuang and said. "Eastern warriors, since you have killed my servants, I will grant you death." The voice of the God of War rumbled. As he spoke, the golden spear in his hand pointed at the other party. A terrible golden light shot out like a laser, heading straight for Flaming Qilin and Yan Wushuang.

I listened. The words were not spoken. They were feelings. Thoughts. But they were clear. Too clear. My voice came out shaky. “He says… the war cannot be stopped.” Damon’s jaw tightened. “That’s not true.” Cassian spoke calmly. “Prophecies are rarely wrong.” Damon glared at him. “Prophecies are written by people. People can lie.” Lucian looked thoughtful. “That is true.” I whispered again. “He says… the war has already started.”

“Mercy gets you betrayed. Hesitation gets your people slaughtered.” He studied me for a long moment. “And love?” That one made me look up. “What about it?” “Does it get you killed too?” I swallowed hard, then looked away. “Sometimes. But it also reminds you what you’re dying for.” He sighed. “You’re too young to sound this old.” I gave a small, humorless smile. “War ages faster than time.” Marcus chuckled softly. “You always did like your dramatic lines.” “Someone has to make the legends sound good when they tell the story.”

"Hail Samarth, the Lionheart! May your name forever be etched in the annals of our kingdom's history!" A deafening roar erupted from the ranks of Samarth's warriors. The air reverberated with thunderous applause, echoing off the battle - scarred landscape as Samarth stood triumphant, his armor battered but unbroken. A warm smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with pride and relief, as he gazed out upon the sea of faces that had stood by him through the trials of war, and blurred was the sight for him, of the ocean of dead bodies lying across the land, bathing in blood and cut limbs of the rivals.