Warriors Comics Novels & Stories

His expression and the happiness he was sharing with me were enough to let me know what the letter was about. “The office of the Gamma of the Black Shadow Pack,” he began. “... welcome you, Mr. Randall Javier, as the new recruit for the Warriors program that would commence on the third of June, 2024. Listed below are the final requirements that you must submit, as well as the breakdown of the allowance that you will receive during basic training. As we are aware of your previous rank as a certified warrior, we will be looking at the possibility of letting you rise and move up to the next level of rank depending on the skills and discipline that you will exhibit…”

“He was calling you the mean, viscious, evil or....wicked warrior.” Uilleam choked on his ale and slammed his hand down on the table. “That is why the Frenchies would not go near you! They knew not the attachment of the nickname to rutting, so his missive labeled you as an evil warrior and they’re all so bloody Catholic!” His eyes widened and he looked at Eleanor. “Sorry, M’Lady. I mean no offense. I keep forgetting you are high-born and raised in an abbey.” “I think that is the best compliment a mercenary has ever given me,” Eleanor said with a smile. “Well, except one.”

My Dad might fancy such but I’m not my Dad. I noticed most of the Warriors were middle-aged he-wolves and she-wolves, but I also noticed some young adults, like me too. I could imagine they had started Combat classes at an early age and had done remarkably well in training for them to have been able to be Reignile Warriors at such a young age. So that basically meant every Warrior here was older than me by Combat rank. I hadn’t finished my combat classes, remember? It had been interrupted twice. Both times by the one and only Cayden.

Jade blurted out before she could stop herself. Jin seemed surprised for a moment, but then, burst out in laughter. He winked at Jade and whispered, “Old enough.” Embarrassed, Jade tried to find something to distract herself. And to avoid looking at Jin. “What do you think?” Jin said, breaking the silence. Finally getting over her shame, Jade cleared her throat and tried to look serious. “How?” “There is a legend around here… About the four Holy Beasts responsible for protecting the four kingdoms—”

He explained the customs in detail, confirming what I’d read in that werewolf book. “Mhm, interesting. I read something about that in the werewolf book.” I nodded. “Werewolf book?” He frowned slightly. “Yeah. James’s mom gave me this children’s book—it’s like a Werewolf World 101. I’m taking baby steps to get to know your world and your ways.” I said, half-sarcastic, half-aware of how much of an uneducated outsider I really was. “Anyway, back to the topic of your approachability. Based on what you’ve told me, the only werewolves who actually see and interact with you daily are the lead warriors and high-ranking members. How is that approachable?”

He knew he do not follow all that they taught him, but still, what he did absorb kept him sane. He also knew that the Chief of Warriors of Mauraye was not going to be happy about this. He was on a retreat and would be on his way back now. He had not let him know because he didn't want the man to get hurt. But he knew if the chief warrior had anything to say about it, he will be here, with the wrath of a god. ----------- A fortnight later, the war began. It was brutal. Eloy was in the middle of it. The Kings themselves were just watching and observing.

:Warrior, you said you had another such vision earlier. Rhychard nodded as he told them about the incident at his parents' house. "That one was real enough to singe my fingertips." He held out his hands for their inspection. Tryna slid off the table, took his fingers in her tiny hands, and inspected them as if she were a doctor. "You really should have had Kree treat these burns when they first occurred. That is part of the reason cosheys bond with Warriors, remember? Their healing powers help keep you alive."

As we descended into the subterranean colosseum, the noise became overwhelming. Two thousand warriors filled the stone tiers of the cavern. These were the Shadow Warriors—the battle-scarred outcasts of the Dead Woods. They were alphas, betas, and omegas who had been rejected by their birth packs, criminals who had survived the brutal winter wilderness, and veterans of forgotten border wars. They didn't wear uniforms; they wore heavy furs, iron chains, and leather straps over bodies covered in jagged claw scars. They were savage, and radiated a volatile pressure.

"I meant to say that I wish to acquire items for my inventory." The shopkeeper nodded understandingly. "Do you have a suit?" he inquired, delving deeper into Keagan's needs. "No," Keagan confessed. "I am without weapons as well. That's why I've come here—to purchase the necessary tools." Recognizing Keagan's eagerness, the shopkeeper accessed a dashboard, swiftly inputting a series of squiggles that materialized into a holographic display. A vibrant array of suits and weapons materialized before them, each item meticulously crafted to cater to the needs of burgeoning heroes.

His hands were bloody from the bear he helped to hunt, but the adrenaline was still pumping in his veins, fierce believers of an invisible enemy. The only threat to the country nowadays was the occasional ice bear and packs of giant wolves that plagued the villages closer to the mountains. No war, no battles. Alarick spent the last seven years making himself known as the scariest warlord to ever been born, and it paid in respect and fear from his enemies. He didn’t need to be here to kill these animals. His soldiers could very much deal with it. He came just for fun. Besides, he knew people liked seeing him around. It gave them the feeling of protection that he was very much glad to provide.