Stronger After Being Killed Novels & Stories

They watched as she seemed angry and confused talking about it. “I could have killed him if not for the fact that he became stronger, increasing the gap. I could only endure and wait for my death.” Confused at this point, Raymond asked another question. “Wait, chill—how did he become so much stronger in a few days?” “He wasn’t meant to become stronger, but he betrayed his ally—another powerful Alpha—and killed him at his weakest, stealing his power in the process.” Woah, what! I don’t know this Duke dude, but I’m so calling him a coward if we ever meet.

“Mia, why do you bully people wherever you go? With Lilith gone, you bully others instead. Will you die if you don’t do evil?” I shoved May to the ground and looked at Jevon coldly. “Yes. I’m too kind—I’ll die.” Wasn’t that exactly what happened in my previous life? In the werewolf world, strength had always been supreme. Kindness was never a weakness— it was the blade that killed you. In this life, I would never repeat the same mistake again.

Jack was driving and was taking a glance to the surroundings he could pass through. And he took a look to his friends house where he can see the bodies of attackers that was fled away by the explosion that was made last night. Remembering what he'd came through makes him weakened. He didn't thought he could make it through that worst night. But the possibility that he was alive after that makes him more stronger to face all those attackers (living-dead). Obviously not the strongest ones and he didn't know about them yet.

People were falling to the ground like bloody slime, turning into living dirt. A tremendous amount of death emanations raced into Reive’s anarel. He breathed sharply, not taking his eyes from the girl who was growing pale in his arms. Damn... Everything was the same as before. Everything as he had loved it. The deaths of others gave him an inflow of magic, allowing him to raise more and more dead people, making the zombies under his control stronger and tougher. He could carry on this war forever. The enemy didn’t understand that the more the battle lasted, the stronger he became.

I allowed my power to do the fighting, while the only thing I could do was instruct them in my sense. After a long fight, my team and I slaughtered all the reapers. Their dead body, skeleton, and bones littered all around the arena ground. I examined my team, my eyes wandering around for any sign of damage or wounds except for the one they had acquired earlier, but I found none. It was like my presence gave them new strength and reason to live.

She killed her enemies with a silent heart, yet her heart broke each time she saw one of her men fall. For weeks she had been fighting. She knew she was still able to fight thanks to the power she now shared with her husband. The more he killed, the more he became stronger, making her strong by default. Her husband came upon their enemies like a crazed beast, and he derived pleasure from each kill. The Allikans should have known at first sight that the war wasn't going to be easy, yet instead, they looked at the blood warriors with smug smiles on their faces, like they could already tell the end. Now, it doesn't seem that way anymore.

Because just as every life had meaning, that didn’t mean everyone deserved to live. That was why I never blinked an eye when my brothers and I killed, when blood stained our hands. I believed it was meant to be. We killed because we were stronger. Because we had the power, the strength to do it. The strongest survived. The weakest perished. That was the law of the jungle. That was how we, werewolves, lived. And if someone stronger than my brothers and me came along, and we met our end at their hands, then it was also meant to be.

Only by surviving can he understand the truth of everything, including the identity of the voice. The cultivation world is where the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must. In this world, strength is of primary importance. All life under overwhelming power is fragile. As James had no lost love toward the living beings of the Greater Realms, he did not feel guilty killing them. After killing them, he hurriedly left.

Damien appeared instantly, pulling her up while slashing an infected student who tried to grab her. “You okay?” he asked, voice tight. “Keep fighting!” she gasped. Kael was a whirlwind of violence in the center. Every time he killed one of his former packmates, a piece of him died inside. He recognized their scents even in death. The pain fueled his rage, making him stronger and more terrifying.

After that, you'll have no choice but to perish. Not to mention, she had the system on her side. The more zombies she killed, the stronger her base became. If humanity's fate was ever going to change, it was now!