Nick_Alderson
348 in week
Oliver Patrick, the Greatest General in Stormfront's history has a secret - a secret not many know. They think that his Iron WIll was built overnight. They know not the path of suffering he walked, as the slave Beam, to reach his destiny as King, and then Emperor.
This is that story. A true story, of progress, struggle, hardship and strength. A story of greatness achieved without a system. A story of how one unknown boy's struggle transformed a continent forever.
//Extract
The arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentary lapse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered. With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.
He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his blade into its throat.
It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of its comrades dealt with so easily in quick succession. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance. He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.
Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into place as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone – though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.
Slowly, with his meat shield in place, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a glance with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.
“Stay,” a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in place. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands. It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.
Nick_alderson
1040 in week
Do people chase greatness, or does greatness chase us?
A.I. genius, Gengyo, through the assistance of SAPPHIRE attains the means to time travel. He seeks a simpler life, and wishes to experience the warmth of a family.
But often we do not get what we want, we get what we deserve. And his peaceful times soon end, as war storms Japan, and in order to protect his peace, he must conquer. Join Gengyo as he walks a blood-stained path toward absolute domination, seizing control of Japan.
//Brief extract from one of the battle scenes. Written from the point of view of a samurai landowner, Niwa Nakatane.
The hooves grew closer to Nakatane’s position and their beating hearts grew faster.
Perhaps they could simply remain like that, hiding behind the tree, and allow these barbarians to pass? That way could they not return home to their families? Could they not give their dear wives one final kiss, or share one final story with their enthusiastic youth?
Nakatane knew exactly what they were thinking. And as the ground rumbled, and the mounted beasts howled, he was the first man to step out from the trees and make his stand.
“OORAH!”
Possessed by a furious energy, he thrust out with all the aggression of a war god, puncturing Ochi’s stallion through the chest with the sharpened wooden point of his lengthy spear.
The mammoth fell from his mount clumsily, his head colliding with a nearby tree root. He ceased to move, and a pool of blood began to form around him.
“ARM THESE SPEARS MEN! VICTORY SHALL BE OURS!”
He stood in front of the charge of over 150 horsemen, alone. But he did not give a single inch of ground. He met the charge of the next man in line, roaring vengefully, possessed by all the rage and power that had accumulated in his body over these past years.
The horsemen shrieked like a pack of hyenas, fanning out, each eager for a piece of the man who had brought down their leader.
abcnovels
