Slaughtered Gods Novels & Stories

Archived in the Living Library, Floor 3 💀 The Shattering of the Pantheon 1,000 years ago, the world was ruled not by kings, but by gods. Thirteen of them reigned, each governing one of the primal forces of creation: flame, time, mind, death, shadow, storm, and more. They were not merciful. They were not kind. They demanded worship, sacrifice, and obedience. Empires rose and fell by divine whim. Mortals lived in fear of the gods' cruelty disguised as justice. Until one of their own turned against them. Known only as the Godkiller, they were not born divine, but rose from mortal blood, wielding an unnatural power capable of severing divine essence from existence itself. It's said their blade

When there was no earth and all gods were still in heaven with Eledumare, they lived in peace and harmony until the greedy Laalu made them lost the comfort, there was one god that owned a dog, he was an hunting god and his dog were a male and female dogs, two of them had been his only friends, and were gift from Eledumare to him, he also fell and his fall was bad that his two legs did not only got broken, they were cut out of him and he could not locate where they were, so when he was treated and was alright, he could not move, and his dogs riro and Lokili were always hunting for him, and soon other gods discovered him, these gods could move around and yet they just would seat back and expec

I was the god of ruin, and this was my temple of slaughter. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. The Blade whispered. It fed on their agony. Firstborn came. Gods of war. Ancient. Terrible. I butchered them. One by one, like a storm made flesh, I tore through them. I wasn’t fighting—I was unleashing. Every movement, every breath, was a symphony of violence orchestrated by madness. Their screams were hymns, their blood the ink that painted my masterpiece of destruction. I twisted necks until the vertebrae cracked like thunder in my ears. I drove my claws into spines and ripped them out with grotesque elegance. Skin tore like silk under my fingers, revealing the quivering terror beneath.

The Cathedral behind them collapsed in a plume of fire and dust, illuminating the night like the funeral pyre of a god. Edda was gone. But her final whisper still clung to the wind: You killed God twice. And something darker lingered in the silence that followed— the sense that killing a god doesn’t end the faith it leaves behind.

"No. You have just ascended. You do not understand!" "A fan in form, a sword in essence. It devours gods and severs the cycle of reincarnation. For millennia, there has only been one such peerless, malevolent weapon." "But... but was it not personally destroyed by the Celestial Lord in the Nine Hells?!"

I said. "The blood of a slave, and the blood of a Goddess. That's what you are. That's what the Butcher has always been." Halvard's face was grim. "The Lycans left us with nothing but corpses. They nearly wiped us out entirely. But that blood gave us a weapon. The Butcher was the one thing they could not stand against. They killed our families, our children, our entire pack. But we bled them in return. And they fled. They vanished from this world and were never found again." "What has changed to bring them out of hiding now?"

The gods angered by the Demon’s defiance banded together to destroy the wayward god, but one thing was certain it was not even a battle. With a snap of his fingers, nearly a billion gods died a cruel death more gruesome than the last as his rampage raged throughout the realms. Not even the High Heavens and the Chaos realms were spared as the crystal cities of heaven and the Shadowed spires of the Chaos realms burned and shattered before his might.

I said to Arthur, “what kind of guy is he? Kind to animals and children? Or only after he’s turned them into his meat puppets?” “When the old gods left, there was a vacuum created by their absence,” said Arthur. “Many religions rose up to take their place. Only one survived.” That sounded quite ominous. “By killing all his rivals.” “Oh, no,” said Arthur. “Nothing like that. He bought them out.”

I mind linked them. “This is what the chant for the spell is: ‘Blood of my Blood and Power of the Storm, Pull the Influence of this God from Gaia’s, Dimitri’s, and Elijah’s Soul and Mind, Block Zeus from any other form of Control over Gaia, Dimitri, and Elijah. Spirit, I call on you to protect these Gods and Goddess minds and souls from coming undone. Fire, I call on you to burn what remains of his power. Air, I call on you to blow away the webs. Earth, I call on you to keep these Gods and Goddess grounded. Water, I call on you to wash away their confusion.’ Does everyone think they can remember that?” I asked.

Silva explained this to John during Hilda's funeral where her body was kept on stacks of woods upon the cold waters of Eregdrix, thus being set ablaze and into the ever flowing rivers. When life started, a part of Hilda was made. She perhaps was the first of all new gods to be existing. But not yet completed. It extended to the period where the son of Adam, Cain took his might and wrath upon his brother. Thus as his brother Abel got killed, Death instantly sprung up and as well, so did the other side of Hilda.