Ruthlessness Is Mercy Upon Ourselves Novels & Stories

No more excuses. There would be no more pain if they were gone. This curse that we are isn’t something to be cured; it’s a rot that needs burning from its roots. Death is the only neutral ground. Therein lies no pain, no weakness, only silence. Mercy, in that world, is the silence.

“He asked for mercy for the first captured towns. He fears the people will turn cold if we are too cruel.” I looked at him then. The room was bare except for maps, cups, and a small bowl of dried figs. “Bram, we will not be cruel for cruelty’s sake. But we will be precise. Mercy is a tool. Use it poorly and the Spirit World eats it. Use it well and it heals.” He smiled and tapped his staff. “That is what I mean.”

says Dane. "Mercy..." I say slowly, tasting the word in my mouth, "the virtue that is regarded as the forgiveness of what is wronged of you. To let go. An act of kindness to the crook. The feeling of pity. A relinquishment of bitterness in the light of wanting to move forward past what has happened." Dane smiles. "That's one way of saying it." "Should I have mercy?" I ask. "Having it is good. It wouldn't hurt," says Dane.

"You're ruthless, Taehyung. Ruthless and brilliant." Taehyung leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity as he spoke, "Ruthlessness is necessary when the stakes are this high. But brilliance? That’s optional." His lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I only play to win."

"You want punishment. You are thinking that you deserve it." They hit me piercing my heart. She came to a conclusion just by looking at me when I was still figuring out about myself. His words,'you do' drummed in my ears. I felt the pain,didn't I? What these people are talking about? I don't understand. I can't explain to anyone, even to myself. I felt suffocated. These four walls where I live in are knocking the breath out of me. This time, I did what I always felt like doing. I took my car keys and rushed out of the room. I heard her footsteps following me. I didn't stop until I heard her say, "you are not responsible for what happened to your mom. You don't have to do this." That's it. Th

Dear Honey, You can be well, if you want to be well. I know you will recite this throughout the days and weeks. Here's your current letter: Mercy, mercy. The stars shine with confidence, not in stored mercy. There be revision in what you need, what you aim at to achieve. Mercy is cheap; you build self through repute. For repute, do not beg but yield. There is no mercy in store for thee. Create self, a power living being. Not by weapons alone can you win.

Order above all. Yet as I watched them prepare, memory surfaced uninvited... A burning village. Bodies everywhere. An alpha who believed compassion made him strong had opened his borders. By dawn, his pack was gone. Mercy killed them faster than any enemy. I learned what the world keeps trying to forget: Kindness without structure is slaughter. “Elara,” I murmured to the wind. “You think you are freeing them.” But freedom is only beautiful from a distance. Up close… it looks like panic.

he said gently, "people who are truly ruthless never think of themselves as heartless. "You once told me not to care about what others think. Once you've made a decision, there's no need for hesitation. If you weren't who you are—if you weren't Niel's daughter, without the courage and ability to strike back at the Fox family—they would have torn you apart without the slightest bit of mercy." As he finished speaking, his brow knit slightly, tenderness flashing across his face. His words were comforting, instantly washing away the dull heaviness in her heart.

“I will.” She turned back to the altar, tracing her fingers along the sigil. The frost beneath her touch shimmered, spreading outward like breath across glass. “Then write this too,” she said softly. “Mercy is not weakness. It is the strength to stay kind in a world that wants you cruel.” Elias bowed his head. “I’ll remember.”

Blood spilled fast and warm over my fingers, dripping onto the dirt below. “You know,” I said quietly, almost to myself, “I used to think mercy was strength. That letting people live made me better than the monsters who made me.” He gasped, choking on his own blood. “But mercy breeds weakness,” I whispered. “And weakness destroys everything.” I let go, watching him crumble to the ground, coughing and trembling. Elias stood behind me, silent. He’d seen this before. He didn’t need to say anything. I looked down at my hands, the blood still warm against my skin. It had been a while since I let myself enjoy it—the silence after the screams, the control that came with it.