Raze Underworld Novels & Stories

They were too swift to get a decent look at when they rose up, seizing the weak or the dead. "This is just the start, the underworld will rise further forth," he hissed, eyes glowing in pleasure at the carnage "and those who slighted me will pay the dues owed."

Hunger and defiance danced in her eyes. “Oh, darling,” she breathed, every word a promise. “You have no idea how badly you just screwed up.” Beyond her walls, the city continued in its oblivious rhythm—people walking, laughing, working, never knowing that ancient orders were fracturing, that predators circled beneath the surface, that a war older than history itself was roaring back into the light. Nyxara turned to her darkened screens, fingers already setting new plans in motion. She could feel the old world cracking, the new one pressing in. One architect had fallen, a harbinger of worse to come. Something else—a force older and hungrier—had entered the game.

I clutched my daughter tight, her tiny form acting like a living radiator, her soft glowing light showing the damp brick walls as we passed. Two hours felt like forever as we crawled through that forgotten maze under the city. These weren’t the tourist hallways, not even close. They were the old smuggler routes, the blood-paths of the Lycan underworld that humans never mapped. Eventually, Silas led us to a massive rusted iron door hidden behind a waterfall of storm runoff. “The Undercity,” Marcus breathed, and when Silas entered a complex manual override code the air changed, like the place itself was holding its breath.

I can hear their footsteps scuffling away. “You know she’s never going to make this easy for you, right?” I hear Rowan ask quietly. Silence. Long enough that I almost think Luca isn’t going to answer. “I know,” he says softly. A beat passes. Then Rowan snorts. “You’re so unbelievably fucked.” “Shut up, Rowan.” Their laughter fades down the hall. And despite everything… Dean Withers. The tracker beneath my skin. Callan Ravaryn and his stupid, gentle eyes. The memories of Skyless Keep. The panic still clawing at my chest… I find myself smiling. Just a little.

I snatched it up and handed it to him, watching with held breath as he unfolded the page. His eyes skimmed Nunzia’s neat handwriting for several seconds before he hummed, “As it turns out, Elias is not at the castle. Word has it he’s planning on visiting the Underground tomorrow night.” I frowned, “The Underground?” Azrael leaned in, his lips curling into a smile. “Think of it as a magical nightclub.” “You mean brothel,” Amora purred. “Oh, lovely.” I sighed, “We’re going to another brothel.”

With haste, she inquired directly. "Ah, Doctor Johnson. I did not wish to trouble you, but I find myself in need of your help. The young heir of the illustrious Shaw lineage seeks a masterful doctor with the ability to cure Dermatographia Urticaria. His condition surpasses that of mere dermatographism." Mr. Turk divulged. 'He is attempting to rid himself of his ailment, but why? I am aware that he can already make contact with Abigail, as they have engaged in intercourse. Could it be that he is unable to touch his own son? Despite being family?' Kelsa pondered to herself.

eight in a teardrop form. I heard the humans scream for victory. Raising their weapon in the sky to show Victory. I saw hope in the lost souls too. I saw a paper with pride written on it, burned before it touched my hand. The task is done and the seven deadly sins are gone. The barrier gets thick again. The heaven opens and the seven archangels kneel including Michael who is fighting the Nephilims to protect the humans. I defeated Samael and he is gone, same with Maria. The Nephilim that he help to escape just to give terror to humans are gone too. As well as his army of angels. They all turned into ash one by one as when their master got defeated. Husk and Tusk returned to themselves. A cu

"You killed him. You killed them all." Ravel raises her shovel. "Back. Off." The static whispers: *This is your legacy. Ashes and hate.* --- **The Horizon** At dusk, a new signal pierces the sky-a beam of crimson light, miles wide. The ground splits, revealing a city buried for eons, its spires alive with Arbor Prime tech. Eleanor's voice echoes from the ruins. **"You can't outrun the Cycle, Kelly. But you can still be a good mother.**

*But you can bleed for trying. As the city collapses under the shadow’s assault, Zara’s family flees into the fractured streets—but the Architect’s final weapon emerges: a monstrous incarnation of the Veil itself, hungry to reclaim what was stolen.

But one monster of this kind was worth a dozen, sometimes even a hundred ordinary zombies. The Undead King’s anarel was pulsating, continuously driving flows of magic through himself, filling up the ghostly threads and making the undead obey him. Reive now already controlled a few hundred of the higher dead. They were slowly gathering in Firel, filling up the courtyard and lining up in rows while silently waiting for the order to protect the fortress. Thanks to their nonhuman sight, the necromancer knew the enemy army was still far away, so he still had some time to prepare.