Rise Of The Horde Novelas e Histórias

Brida howled. The pack was holding their breath anxiously to see what would happen. They were all staring at Brida who was sitting on her knees covered in blood with her head tilted forward. At first, it seemed nothing would happen but then Brida levitated into the air and started glowing with white light from all sides. A clear voice echoed through the open space, “A NEW ERA WILL BE BORN. WOLVES WITH EYES THAT REFLECT THE SOUL OF THE MOON WILL END THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT. FENRIR WILL BREAK FREE AND RAGNAROK WILL BE BROUGHT UPON THE WEREWOLF WAYS.”

Weeds coat the city as well as a thick layer of sediment. “It’s happening all over,” Ryatt says softly, in obvious disbelief. “Cities are rising all over Eastonia. From the rivers and the sand.” He goes on to explain that in Tarsian, Jaxon’s people awoke to Oasia giving way, and rushed to safety in time to witness an ancient kingdom emerge from the sand. In the Roguelands, temples and old villages broke through the very ground they stood on. Rifthold collapsed in full, and the river separating the once towering fortress from Ryatt’s lands filled the space left behind, burying it under water.

“Drevska officials are reporting confirmed sightings of a Behemoth-class alpha troll leading one of the horde groups.” Eliza smirked. “Perfect. A big one to prove our point.” The first contact came two days later, outside the ruined farmlands of East Drevska. The monster horde—composed of dire boars, spike wolves, sludge crawlers, and two ogrish leaders—numbered well over 800. Local militia, even at their strongest, would have crumbled.

“You picked pride. You walked away from peace.” “Peace is weakness,” Thorne spat. “And your love will destroy you.” Xander’s gaze burned. “Then I’ll bleed for it. And I’ll keep standing.” They fought like the world had shrunk to the space between them. Neither held back. Around them, the forest rang with war cries and pain. But as the sky began to pale, something shifted. Moonrise held the line. Ash wolves started falling back. One by one, then all at once. The tide had turned. Thorne, bloodied and breathless, backed away. His glare stayed locked on Xander.

He stood, his hollow, soulless eyes sweeping over the endless expanse, taking in the sight of his fallen forces, each bone a testament to his past dominion. His frail form looked fragile, as if a mere gust could scatter him like the dust at his feet, but he was no ordinary being. He was the dark lord himself, not a mere user of magic but its very essence, the embodiment of power that coursed through his withered frame. With a slow, deliberate motion, he bent down, his bony fingers trembling slightly as they scooped up a handful of dry, crumbling dust from the ground. He lifted his hand, his movements precise, and blew the dust into the air, his breath a faint, rasping sound. The breeze caugh

The horizon trembled. From beyond the mountains, the rift began to stir — a gash in the heavens, raw and furious, bleeding light across the sky. Its roar was the sound of creation unraveling. The wind turned savage, tearing through the ruins like a thousand ghosts. Soren rose, his bare feet bleeding against the scarred earth, yet he did not falter. With every step, his glow grew brighter, his form less human, more divine. Travian reached for him, voice breaking on his name. “Please… don’t—”

His voice was low, but filled with a chilling calmness that mirrored the steel in his eyes. Cyrus’s expression darkened, and he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think it’s just me? You’re both dead already. There’s nowhere left to run." He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a knowing malice. "You’ve made a fatal mistake by trusting each other. The empire doesn’t just destroy enemies, Ravenspine. It destroys loyalties."

They didn’t argue or move but I could feel them focusing intently on me. Without hesitation, I let my fingers touch the distortion. And everything exploded. Power surged through me, raw, unfiltered, and overwhelming. Not just from the barrier but from me. Something deep inside me answered the call, rising to the surface with force I hadn’t known I possessed. My warrior instincts snapped into place, aligning with something new, something stronger that had been with me from the moment I regained my wolf. The ripple reacted instantly. It pushed back hard, resisting my advances. Fighting to stay intact.

The forest around us seemed to hold its breath, shadows deepening as the wind carried the scent of approaching danger. Hours passed with tense preparation—traps set, defenses reinforced, scouts sent to track movements. Every sound, every rustle, every whisper of the wind set nerves on edge. My wolf hummed, coiled, ready, sensing the approach of something vast, something deadly. And then, just before midnight, they arrived. A shadowed horde, moving with lethal precision, eyes glowing red, fangs bared, claws ready. The air vibrated with the promise of violence, of blood, of fire. Ronan’s forces had come, stronger than before, coordinated, and utterly relentless.