Novel & Cerita Undying Mercenaries Book Order

"And then?" "Then I unfreeze two million dollars," I stated, a cold, lethal determination settling into my bones. "We hire a private mercenary squad. Humans who don't care about pack politics, equipped with silver ammunition and military hardware. We secure the finances first. Once the money clears, we go back for Alder. And we make this right.”

"All mercenaries are either rogue-born or ex-pack warriors. They are rogues for hire that have no moral ground. They will accept any contract. The only thing they ever care about is money. We were able to identify them through their strong wild scent. It's a smell most rogues have, however, Mercenaries are typically more subtle, as it allows them to enter a pack without being detected." I nod my head in response. I never knew about that. I had heard about Mercenaries, but never knew that they had a specific smell that trackers would be able to identify. "Who hired them?" Kayden asks. Without hearing their response, I have a feeling I know who. "We haven't managed to identify that part yet. W

Chaos raged within the bowels of the Iron Cleft. The alarm horns rang out in the underground passages, their harsh sound echoing in the vaulted stones. Dozens of Eclipse mercenaries dressed in ash-grey armor appeared in the corridor, waving their curving silver blades and glowing runic torches. Three robed sorcerers stood behind the mercenaries, chanting some dark incantations, which made the wet air spark with deadly purple lightning.

When they browsed through the available omnicasts for mercenaries just like them, they found hundreds of thousands doing the same thing. Their faces darkened when they saw all those entries. How were they going to compete against that? They would have rather faced down a thousand enemy mecha than competition of this scale. While Eva thought of ways to break through the noise, Miko read the ridiculous titles on all the mercs’ ‘casts. [EMPEROR STYLE] Mercenaries Destroy UGFP Base

Chapter 60: No Way Back The SUV screeched to a halt, its headlights slicing through the dark. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I kept my breathing steady, fingers twitching toward my weapon. The doors swung open, and figures emerged—silent, calculating, armed to the teeth. Dante’s mercenaries. They weren’t here to negotiate. Mimi and I didn’t hesitate. I shifted my stance, muscles coiled tight despite the screaming pain in my ribs and shoulder. There was no room for weakness. Not now. The first man lunged, his blade glinting under the streetlights.

They stepped inside. Raven’s sharp blue eyes scanned the spines—titles in languages older than Arcadia Prime, bindings of shadow-leather and bone. Victoria moved with purpose, fingers trailing over volumes until she stopped before a thick tome bound in matte black hide that drank the light rather than reflected it. Silver script crawled across the cover like living veins: *Intricate Military Command of the Dead* *Advanced Studies in the Art of Necromantic Warfare* Raven reached up—standing on tiptoe—and pulled it free. The weight surprised her; this was no slim intermediate text. This was dense, heavy with diagrams of battlefield sigils, troop formations of the risen, rites for coordinating

I grab my bag from where I dropped it by the door and leave, pulling it closed behind me as quietly as I can. ***** I sit in the car for a long time before I can make myself drive. The steering wheel is cold under my hands and I sit there staring at nothing, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to do this. I want to stay here with Jonah and Mara and fight until we’re okay again. But I can’t. Because if I don’t go back, if I don’t finish the contract, Mom dies. It’s past ten by the time I get back to the mansion.

The candle’s flame wavered, but she remained steadfast, driven by her determination to honor Magnus’s memory and protect their coven. Finally, as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtains, Seraphina found a passage that sent a shiver down her spine. It described a forbidden ritual, one that could disrupt an elder’s ability to see the future and, in extreme cases, extinguish their life force. As she closed the tome, a newfound resolve burned within her. She would confront this treacherous threat head-on, using her own knowledge and the resources of the council. Seraphina knew that she could not do it alone, but she was determined to gather allies, expose the traitor, and ensure that j

​The descent into the seventy-second tier did not feel like entering a physical structure; it felt like being forcibly submerged in a sea of thick, viscous, and boiling crimson ink. ​When the platinum type-block hands snapped around Elara’s waist and yanked her through the floor of the living draft, the brilliant white world of the seventy-first layer was violently choked out. Her lungs, already burning with the sweet ozone of the previous chamber, were instantly filled with a heavy, coppery air that tasted of raw iron, fresh marrow, and ancient, unedited dynastic blood. She was not floating anymore. She was being dragged through a narrow, crushing conduit where the walls were made of millio

In a natural limestone bowl sheltered from the worst of the wind, the council's hired mercenary camp buzzed with cold, calculating efficiency. Roughly twenty mercenaries—hardened veterans of the southern border wars, clad in mismatched tactical gear and heavy leather dusters—sat around a series of low-burning campfires. They weren't high council enforcers bound by protocol or uniform; they were apex predators-for-hire, answerable only to whoever paid the highest bounty in silver and gold.