The Great Thief - Chapter 1919 - The Art of Commanding

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.//ExtractThe 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.

How long will it take for a murdered thief to distill into something monstrous? In this story the darkness only grows stronger, and its reach only grows wider as it expands by devouring the life that surrounds it. This is a dark fantasy where evil is a where, not just a who that focuses on slow progression, undeath, and atmospheric storytelling.

A new work from the author of 'My Senior Brother is Too Steady', welcome to enjoy it!-------[Science Fiction Apocalypse Setting + Alone Cultivation Protagonist, Not a Mindless Feel-Good Story]This is a shattered world where human civilization barely gasps for air on a planet ravaged by the Blade Beast catastrophe, the flame of civilization in underground fortresses flickers intermittently, and human elites in space are brewing a final plan to strike back at the Blade Beasts, but the future of humanity is dimly lit by fading stars…“So,”a Mahayana Realm expert, who after cultivating alone for one hundred and twenty-five years failed his tribulation and became a Residual Soul in this 'peculiar' world, sighed deeply as he looked up to the sky:“What the hell does this have to do with me?!”

I ended up transmigrating as a third-rate extra in a game I like, but worst of all this character has already fallen and been disowned.

I have no ambitions. I just want to graduate, but the world won’t let me.