Ruination Novels & Stories

Final disposition. The cold fury congealed into something more brittle, sharp. This was no longer about reputation, or finances. This was about destruction. Harper wasn't content to destroy Jonah; he wished to destroy him. To "dispose" of him. The word had images of trash, of something being taken out with rubbish. It was the language of a man who believed that he could kill through a human being from the ledgers of life.

Serrin asked quietly. "The oldest texts call it the Unmaking," Corvin said. "It’s not just about exposing a lie. It’s about tearing it apart ripping out the threads that hold a falsehood together until it can’t exist anymore, not in words, not in memory, not anywhere." He looked at me. "What happened to you today wasn’t a mistake, Ivy. That was the gift working exactly how it was meant to. We just never realized it could go that far." "How far can it reach?" I asked, but I already knew. I’d felt it with the warrior’s vow.

He fell back beside her, gulping air into his lungs as he tried to stop shaking. He'd committed a sin. An unforgivable one. What is done cannot be undone, and no amount of remorse can redeem him for this misdeed. But he'd made a decision and he had no other choice but to continue.

and the devastation of them. Kael's face became stern. "Devastation? I believed the Keeper to have stated that they couldn't be destroyed. Zara turned the pages and stated, "That's what it said." However, this—this indicates differently. There is a method to unmake the shards, but they cannot be destroyed normally. The Ritual of Reclamation is the name given to it. Kael scowled. "What's involved in that?" Zara's face furrowed as she read the paragraph quickly. "All the shards must be brought together. They used to be a source of great strength and a component of a whole. They will revert to their initial state if they are reunited.

I push it down , through my hands, into the building, into the screaming city bedrock. The effect is immediate. Vile. A wave of blight radiates out from our building. Not fire. Not ice. Decay . Pavement cracks, blackening like rotten teeth. Parked cars rust into orange dust in seconds. The nearest Pyre Cultist’s summoned flame gutters and dies, replaced by a creeping, grey mold that races up his robes. The frozen golem doesn't shatter. It crumbles , collapsing into a pile of lifeless, brittle sand. A wave of putrid, earthy stench rolls over us. The street below… dies. Plants wither. Metal corrodes. A localized scar of utter desolation.

She leans in her seat, sighing. “Which is why I will keep it as a last resort,” I add. “If the plague is impossible to defeat with any other means, then I will try. There’s no harm in trying, yes?” I smile a little, but my two advisors meaningfully exchange glances from opposite sides. “As a matter of fact, there is.” My smile was washed from my face. With a solemnly quiet voice, Priscilla reveals, “Purification is the act of cleansing the damned. If you fail… the damned will corrupt you. Once you’re corrupted, in your state, you can either become a plague like him or suffer in the Underworld.”

And arrogance can be exploited. If you want to destroy him, you don’t fight fire with fire. You suffocate him slowly. You strip away his allies, one by one. You expose the rot he hides behind his spotless reputation. You make the empire he built crumble from within, until he’s left standing alone, powerless, watching everything he thought untouchable turn to ash. That’s how you dismantle an empire.

James smiled triumphantly and said, “I’ve cultivated the various Paths of heaven and earth. It’s easy for him to mobilize them. This is nothing to me.” “This is far from enough. You’ll also need to cultivate Herman’s Supernatural Power. It’s called the Palm of Destruction.” Waleria explained, “The Palm of Destruction is a corrupted Supernatural Power. Instead of causing damage to one’s physical body, it destroys one’s bones. It’s almost a guaranteed death after being struck by the Palm of Destruction.”

“Certain partnerships may become unstable.” There it was. The threat. Hidden beneath polished words and expensive wine. Celine looked between us carefully but stayed quiet. I almost respected that. “You think withdrawing shares pressures me?” I asked calmly. “No,” Vincent replied honestly. “I think eventually you’ll realize emotions make terrible business decisions.” June flashed through my mind instantly. Fuck. Vincent noticed the shift in my eyes immediately. The older Alpha smiled slightly before standing from the table. “That girl will become exhausting eventually,” he said smoothly while adjusting his suit jacket. “And when she does, family tends to matter again.”

“You think there will be no repercussions for what happened? You slapped Edward Dante. You humiliated him. Do you realize what you’ve done?” Abigail’s breath caught. Mariana stepped closer, voice shaking. “That man was our last hope. And you spit in his face.” Guilt curled in Abigail’s stomach like a slow, poisonous burn. Sophia shook her head. “You were too busy acting like a martyr to see the truth. And now? Dad’s in the hospital, the business is in ruins, and we have nothing.” “I...” Abigail clenched her fists. “I didn’t want this. I was trying to...”