The Invincible Warlord Novels & Stories

"I don't operate a pack, Reina." "Then...?" "I am the Commander of the Alpha King's army," he replied. "It seems you haven't heard of me. I am the Warlord, the man tasked with putting an end to anyone who doesn't sit well with the crown." The breath caught in my throat. I wasn't just married to a powerful Alpha; I was married to the most feared man in the country.

They were looking up at my balcony, waiting for their King to give them an enemy to destroy. But I didn't have an enemy for them to fight. I couldn't point them toward an opposing army. The monster destroying my life sat in a luxury suite just a few floors above us, completely untouchable. I stared down at my people. For my entire reign, I had stood on this exact balcony projecting nothing but absolute, unbreakable strength. I was the Warlord. I was the apex predator of the continent. I never showed weakness, and I never asked for help.

Chapter 656 The battle, which has been going on for the previous four days, was taken to the enemy's corner by His Majesty and his warriors. His Majesty and his troops were prepared to win the battle. The warriors were prepared to die for their continents and had a winning mindset. being led by the Prince of the Indo Continent, a warrior capable of using numerous combat tactics by himself to eliminate foes a person with direct access to the Almighty. A man who can command angels to hoist more than 8.5 million soldiers into the air at once to evade an enemy's tactics is not someone to fool about with.

The others remained silent after hearing what Caspian said. What he said made sense. The leader of the enemy's troops was personally leading the battalion. Caspian should also be able to do it since he was the Diatoran God of War. "Robert and Viktor are both known as the invincible Champions. This is the perfect opportunity to fight it out!" Caspian said. "Lord Caspian, I'm willing to go to Southlake City with you," Benjamin said.

Tales of the Commander-in-chief of Pendragon were always making the rounds in the Abashidze war zone. He was Biskeland's toughest military leader, a five-star general with an undefeated squad in his Pendragon Warriors, holding a record of unbroken victories! Even Matthias, with his own hefty rep for strength in Abashidze, was seriously on edge about the Commander-in-chief of Pendragon. What really got to Matthias was the guy's sheer power—and the fact that nobody had a clue about the full extent of his abilities.

Their vastness and aura were more than enough to bring men to their knees in surrender. That was the true Stormrider’s army. Destroyer of realms. The pride of the North. Even I, who had lived among these men, knew what they were capable of. I had heard the stories of burning towns and how they marched through the South like a tide of fire. They were gods of war wrapped in mortal skin, and I was expected to stand among them like I belonged. Just like my father who currently stood in front of me. Varek Valewind was like a king among them, regal in his gleaming obsidian armor, the golden wolf etched across his chest catching the light.

Here, hold the line. She moved through the mass of fighting warriors, keeping her attention fixed only on the warlord. She could see the smirk on his lips and the evil glitter in his eyes as she got closer. Now that he was in her grasp, this was the man who had brought her so much pain. She yelled, "Warlord!" to get his attention. "Look at me!" The warlord turned, a look of vile glee on his face. "So, Havenbrook's small commander approaches me directly. How honorable.

"You do not negotiate with terrorists. And you certainly do not offer yourself as a martyr to assuage your own crippling guilt. You are the tactical anchor of this pack. If you die, the Vanguard breaks. If the Vanguard breaks, my Legion is flanked, and we all die in the snow." ​I pointed a black-gauntleted finger directly at his chest, tapping the bruised muscle over his heart. ​"I am the Warlord of this army. You gave me a command. That makes you my asset. And I do not trade my assets to leeches. Is that understood?"

he hissed, his jaw locking back into a rigid line of unyielding iron as he pulled me into a bruising, desperate embrace that left no pocket of air between our chests. The clinical armor of the Warlord slid seamlessly back over his rugged features, but it was no longer fueled by pack logic—it was fueled by a feral, protective madness. "I will not just print execution orders, Veda. I will tear this entire kingdom to pieces before I let a single lord breathe the same air as my heir." He stood up to his full, terrifying height, lifting my smaller frame into his arms with an absolute, permanent finality that sealed our contract in the quiet dawn.

“Hah-hah-hah, that’s really funny! You actually called Battle Warrior Lucas for help?! You brag like a fool!” “What an insensible son of a b*tch. You still think you’re some hot sh*t at this point?” Harry grunted. “You f*cking moron!” Kevan jeered. Everyone was laughing. They had encountered plenty of pretentious people in the past, but they had never encountered someone who bragged with Battle Warrior Lucas’s name. ‘Who was Battle Warrior Lucas? He’s the battle warrior of Dragonshire who has ruled over the whole of Southrive for a long time. He’s the overlord of the citizens.’