The Lords Of Discipline Book Novels & Stories

Some of the warriors struggled to control their private from rising but as they kept learning they learned. The oracle told them that if they must survive the journey they’ve been chosen to embark on that they’ll need to be able to control the lust of their flesh. It’s the most disciplined that stands the greatest chance of returning, not the strongest, or bravest but the most disciplined the Oracle reiterated to them.

He smiled, seeing my confused face. "They love to play pranks on me all the time. Saying that they want my stern face to soften up even for a bit." He genuinely chuckled while saying that. I could already feel how much they loved my mate, even without meeting them directly. "This book." He started to sound serious while tapping the book in front of us. "It is the North's ancient history itself. It contains all of what one Lord should know to rule efficiently. Every secret, curse, prophecy, and power itself."

A few books from the period of enchantment portrayed that there were other planar universes and they were additionally circle like articles that were suspended in the unfilled drained of space. On the off chance that the guides precisely portrayed the Grindia Continent, the legends about the magi more likely than not been valid; there was essentially not an obvious reason. Assuming that were the situation, that implied that the civic establishments on the landmass developed in a straight way that extraordinarily depended on a singular's preparation in enchantment followed by Battle Force, not at all like the civilizations in his past life which sought after progressions in science and innova

Within the Dawnward realm, the most formidable beings among the deities held the title of Lords, with the Supreme God reigning supreme above all. Throughout the annals of history, these lords had emerged, surpassing mortal limitations to rule over humanity. These lords regarded ordinary humans as mere ants, committing heinous acts without remorse. One particularly infamous lord had even massacred an entire family to seize a woman he desired. Under the perpetual threat of these lords, fear enveloped the people of the Dawnward. Then, a mysterious figure from Salmasian emerged, swiftly vanquishing 12 malevolent lords and 24 of their followers, sending shockwaves throughout the Dawnward realm.

She had her eyes fixed intently on me, threatening to pierce through mine if I didn’t speak up quickly. My teeth chattered against their will. A sudden cold seeped into my bones and made me shiver slightly. Maybe it was because I saw myself back in the past at that moment. And standing right in the middle of the council room that had the three most powerful mafia men in the city. Oliver Flynn Moretti. Sanchez Harry Rossi. Donatello Morano. Three best friends who’d sworn never to give power to any other family except themselves. Men who had loyalty for breakfast, blood for lunch, and power beneath their feet.

His eyes were burning green as though he had contracted the disease from the fire in Xenia, and his claws had made lines in the wood. "We hold," he snarled. “We control this kingdom whether she is present or not. No banner falls, no ally turns. Not while I'm breathing.” However, I noticed the uncertainty ripple through the chamber. The lords of Orion were vultures, waiting for weakness, and now the weakness was clear. ELRIC'S POV I watched from the corner as they verbally tore at each other. Like thin ice, loyalty broke. And I heard it in the quiet between disputes. The slightest hum.

For some reason it occurred to me that the war in the city was unavoidable, but would it be outside the city? Under Boris, the mayor was a servant, after his death he felt freedom, and having received a casino, he tasted power and real money, and wanted more, but he was only a man, and a man would never be allowed to stand above the wolves. To do this, he might need Boris's brother, who was so conveniently also a half-breed, under the guise of instability, quite capable of inciting other half-breeds, oppressed by wolves, to fight for rights and make the city his own.

Discipline. A slow, predatory smile touched Albert’s lips. “So. We begin with order. We end with the ultimate surrender.” He placed the die carefully on the glass table. “For Discipline, the transgression must be clear. You have been flawless in following explicit commands. So the transgression must be one of… spirit. Of unspoken defiance.”

Then came the sound of hooves. At first, I didn't think much of it — travelers and merchants often passed through our village. But when I stepped outside, I saw the dust rising, the banners snapping in the wind, and the armored men riding closer in formation. Then I saw him. Darius Venn. He wasn't a king, though he fancied himself one. A warlord — brutal, ambitious, the kind of man who built power from other men's ashes. His armor was blackened steel, his red cloak torn at the edges and crusted with dried blood. I'd heard the stories — how his blade never stayed clean, how villages that resisted him never stood again.

Mother had written in that language on that area Severed. "To head these four races in fair rule, four heads were picked. One from each race. The Four Lords, we called them. The Fae and Lesser Fae were indispensable for they could live thousands of years but the Humans and Mages were expendable so during a single reign of a Fae, tens of Humans and Mages reigned. If not hundreds." I flipped the page over again. The book began from the page I had opened. I debated between reading the book and listening to the old man. I chose the latter and dumped the now closed book on my thighs. I would look at it later.