The Blade Of Evolution: Walking Alone In The Dungeon Novels & Stories

The blast from the Elder’s void-energy sent a shockwave through the Dead Lands, turning the ash into a blinding whirlwind. Silas lay motionless against the jagged rocks, his black-glass blade nothing but glittering shards in the dirt. I stood alone, the white light of the Priestess lineage flickering around my fingers like dying embers.

The slap landed before he could finish. My voice was ice. "Garrett Holloway, a man pathetic enough to get his mistress pregnant has no business talking about my family." Garrett stared into my eyes, and something in them made him flinch. Before he could say a word, a scream came from outside. A female employee burst through the door, panicked. "Mr. Holloway! Something happened! Sienna, she's bleeding, there's so much blood…" He shoved past me before she had even finished speaking. The corner of the desk caught me right in the lower abdomen, and a wave of cold sweat broke over my entire body.

BOND BY BLADES The staircases never ended. At least, that was what it felt like at first. No walls. No ceiling. No visible ground beyond the black steps beneath their feet. Just descent. Endless and soundless except for the echo of their own footsteps. Kael walked ahead slightly. Rhydian stayed close enough to reach him if necessary. Far enough to pretend that was tactical. Neither of them spoke for a while. Because the silence here felt… aware.

The dagger lay on the table in Lucian’s study, its etched symbols mocking us in the dim firelight. My wounds ached—leg stitched, arm bandaged—but the pain was a distant hum compared to the dread curling in my chest. That figure, its voice, the void-like arch—it wasn’t just a threat. It was a doorway, a glimpse into something far bigger than Bloodfangs or pack wars. The bond with Lucian thrummed, restless, urging action, but we had no map, no answers, only this cursed blade and a ticking clock.

The blade gleamed with a brilliant silver light, its edge shimmering with a promise of sharpness. The blood sword! I exclaimed internally, astonished by the fact that I had successfully conjured the legendary weapon known to be wielded by a valiant warrior from Cairos—a neighboring nation to Springgan. Apollo had shared stories about it, expressing his dream to create such a weapon one day. Empowered by the gauntlet, I held the blood sword with ease. The blade's edge gleamed, a testament to its lethal potential. Just as the icy shield surrounding me shattered, the dominus seized the opportunity to consume me. Its jaws opened wide as it lunged towards me. Reacting swiftly, I positioned the sw

And it will be impossible for them to destroy the true enemy - the Beast! John inspected his blades and stroked them, especially admiring the sterling silver engraving that showed up as soon as he held them in his hands. The Blades recognized their Master, their Creator. The engraving on one of the blades read: "Ta - revo" - "I am death." And on the other: "Ve'ol, E'khor!" - "Fear, Beast!" "My blades," Black whispered, still holding his blades in his hands. - How, it turns out, I missed you!

ALTHEA. Everything fell silent except for the beating of four hearts, and the moment Blade let us know that he was ready to face Fabian, Lucius and Adan laid out their hands, and we did the same process as earlier. In seconds, the blackness came, and we landed on another solid ground. We were inside the abandoned well. My eyes saw nothing except cobwebs and dust. “He’s behind us. Turn around when you’re ready.” Lucius said, and I let go of Blade’s hand as I slowly turned my body around.

Weak. “Dying implies an end,” I rasped, pressing the blade to my forearm. The first sigil came easy, the skin parting like wet paper. Black blood welled, thick as tar, pooling in the grooves of the ritual circle. The ice beneath me hissed where it met the ooze. “This… is evolution.” She took a step closer, snow crunching under her boots. “Evolution? Look at yourself, Viktor. You’re rotting.”

It is when I start to dream that my slumber goes downhill. In my dreams, I chase the man with my wallet. We are in the alley, he has my wrist and my arms begin to burn. My blood pumps like lava, black veins wrapping up my limbs like vines and I screech as my skin sears. In the darkness, a handsome devil watches with dark blank eyes. He is unohaded by my suffering, even when I cry to him, the only bystander, to help me. I thrash about and try to pry myself free of the monster holding my wrists, when suddenly he becomes a bear. A huge, red eyed, demonic bear and he bellows in my face with yellowed razor teeth. I hear a scream thst I know is my mother's, and as I turn away in useless guilt, the

The carousel was still there, spinning round as if nothing had changed. I bought a ticket and sat on the same familiar horse. The wind blew against my face. I closed my eyes. For a moment, I could still hear my daughter's laughter… and David warning me, "Be careful." This time, no one was with me. I rode alone. A wave of dizziness washed over me. I knew death was near. I forced my eyes open, but the world grew more and more blurred. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and used the last of my strength to dial a number I had not called in years.