Read King Of Mercinary Novels & Stories

Miller's voice quivered with desperation as he pleaded once again, "Please, King Rico, have mercy. Release me from these chains. I beg of you." King Rico's laughter echoed through the chamber, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Miller's spine. "Mercy?" King Rico scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "You seem to misunderstand, Miller. Mercy is not a concept that exists in my world. You are here for a purpose, a purpose that will serve me and further my ambitions." Miller's eyes widened with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I will never serve you willingly," he spat, his voice filled with an inner strength that he managed to gather which surprised even himself. "You cannot break my s

"Alright, I’ll get it done. The winners will join the royal warriors.” Kerry's POV: After I got off the phone with that crazy woman, I sent two of my spies to the mafia family. One of them has already contacted me and informed me that they are indeed intimidating people. The other spy mentioned that their daughter is almost 21 and has yet to shift. Knowing Red's disdain for weakness, I hope he doesn't do anything foolish like bullying the girl. I am uncertain about the timeline for this operation or when they will arrive. All I know is that the king has sent them an invitation to the kingdom. Do these individuals even know about the king? I doubt it. They are too far away, lost in their own

The gathered ladies-in-waiting began to twitter endlessly behind their hands, but nobody moved towards her – save one – as the King dithered yet again. “That will not be necessary,” the mercenary said, loudly, and she saw he was standing just below the dais. “Can I claim her now?” “Please, Your Majesty,” Miriam begged, kneeling in what was a last, despairing appeal to her father. “Do not make me do this.” All hope vanished when King Gregory snatched up the large pouch, dealt with the drawstring and peered within. Was he going to test the provenance of what must once have been his own coin? It appeared not for he set it aside, his lined face breaking into a smile.

he rasped, “you could at least skip the dramatics.” A soft laugh came from somewhere to his right. Too soft to be amused — too steady to be kind. “Kill you?” a man said. His voice was smooth, aristocratic, and disturbingly calm. “Oh no. That would be far too merciful.” The voice moved closer; Rowan could hear the scrape of boots on stone, the faint rustle of a cloak. “You’re the Mercer boy, aren’t you? The one the king’s little consort can’t seem to forget?”

"Your Majesty! It was the North! The Duke used sorcery to bewitch my daughters! Look at Lyra, she is broken! Look at Elara, she speaks with the tongue of the Archivist!" “Ting.” The Archivist was sitting on the King’s shoulder, invisible to all but me. He was playing with a golden thread that was tied directly to the King’s crown. “Task Twenty-Two: The King is also a customer. Twenty years ago, Alaric bought his throne with the life of his first-born brother. The proof is on page 44 of the Iron Book. If you reveal it, the King will kill you to hide the secret. To win, you must use the page to blackmail the King into executing your father instead.”

They were laughing like they were the only ones inside the enormous hall. Alaric clenched his fist. Something was throbbing painfully inside of him, and he didn’t know what it was. He drank the wine he was holding in one gulp. He remembered the reaction of the two when they met upon the return of Keane and his men. They called each other Dragon and Phoenix. “Did they know each other?” He asked himself. Suddenly, a man wearing a black suit approached the king and handed him a piece of paper. The king’s naturally blue eyes seemed to darken upon reading the letter. “Find the man,” he just said.

“Your silence won’t buy you mercy.” He took another step closer, and the leader flinched. The faint light revealed only a glint of cruel amusement in the man’s eyes. “Your king knows,” he said softly, almost whispering now. “And you will deal with him.” The mercenary leader froze, his whole body trembling. He knew what that meant. The rogue king was not a man—he was a nightmare, a legend whispered around dying campfires. A creature without heart or mercy.

A prophecy that foretold the gruesome conspiracy to end the life of the greatest king of the earth. All I want from you is a little aid, a little enlightenment, a little fortitude, and caliber to complete my work. Hope you will provide me countenance and tutelage to undertake the long tedious journey of the past. Yours Sincerely Saheli

she reasoned. He snorted angrily. "She deserves what awaits here out there," he muttered coldly with visible disdain in his eyes. I shudder in both shock and fright. I had never expected him to be this heartless and cold. I had always viewed him as a gentle, kind and thoughtful man. "Take her further to the edge of the forest and prepare the potion," he ordered solemnly and servants, who heard his commanding tone, shivered before rushing to carry out his order. The guards pulled me roughly. The sharp edges of the rocks cut through my skin as they dragged me even on the floor whenever I fell weakling, unable to bear the weight of my body with my wobbling legs.

Three boys appeared, holding a bow. Mercies!! Her heart screamed out. The one in the middle - wearing a robe. It was the King!! Instantly, the pains from the arrow seemed to affect her so much, she lost consiousness and passed out.