Novels by Lily Monroe

A tidal blaze unfurled between heaven and earth, and within the flames—“Holy Emperor…”The warriors of the Solar Kingdom froze.This moment—This was the end.Their power swelled, vast and violent.From all directions the distant onlookers—those who had kept their distance—felt their hearts lurch.The Holy Emperor had fallen.The great factions witnessing it didn’t even dare show their faces.“Kill!”“Kill that brat!”The Solar Kingdom’s elites were enraged.At once they broke into furious curses.In an instant, the crowd drowned in wrath.The strong of the Solar Kingdom were terrified.No one hesitated.All of them lunged to kill Dragon-Slayer and Anthony.“You really want to die together?”The next moment—Anthony struck once.A swath of top-tier experts exploded, their bodies smashed to pieces.Squelch!Some heads spun off into the air.Dead.The Holy Emperor had been killed.But they… were powerless.They could not keep fighting. If they did, the entire Solar Kingdom might be gro

Dragon-Slayer grunted, swallowed the pain in his seams, and rose into it, the sword-edge cutting a white arc.Beside them, Thirteen Smith muttered a curse. “Stupid kid.” The Holy Emperor only sneered, eyes full of scorn.Dragon-Slayer didn’t answer, his grip biting down. “Hnh. I’ll carve you up.”He fought with everything, every stroke meant to kill. Anthony watched, his gaze shifting—he seemed to read the intent, and held his tongue.Boom—the air rolled like a tide swallowing the field. The Holy Emperor’s rampage had passed understanding; each strike was huge and ruthless.A heartbeat later, the gale rose again. His offense poured like a rain-screen, fists and palms crossing, killing intent spearing the clouds. He was a hammer overfilled with thunderfire—blow after blow grinding down.Dragon-Slayer braced in a flash—swordlight fierce—meeting edge with edge.Boom! He staggered back several steps, heart pounding, a flicker of disbelief breaking through his eyes. Why? What in hell did h

Dragon-Slayer dropped lightly to the ground; a tap of the heel, dust settled. He raised his eyes to the figure standing high above, gaze cold, voice low but heavy enough to hold the field.Though his chest still heaved, he ground out each word: “I’m not afraid of you.”“Today, I’ll defeat you—and kill you.”“The Solar Kingdom will never be a match for Ardenia.”“Your warriors are garbage.”The Holy Emperor laughed softly, a rasp like a blade dragging over stone. “You’re sure? Sure you’re not afraid? Then today, I’ll cut you to pieces.”Dragon-Slayer stepped in instead of back, a short drive of the foot, his body tipping forward, killing intent sliding free like a naked edge. He lifted his head and met the sword-hard gaze above, unflinching.The cold in his eyes cut sharper than steel. “To me, you’re—nothing.”“Today, you die.”“I will kill you.”“You think that boy can really keep you safe?” His words fell like a war banner rammed into open ground, snapping in the gale. Wind licked hi

“Y-you—why are you this strong…”Anthony’s mouth pulled into a cold curve. “It’s not that I’m strong. It’s that you’re useless.”Before the last syllable faded, he surged upward, a raptor cutting through knives of wind and sleet, and stooped.Boom!Explosions flowered across the sky, force scattering like invisible hammers pounding the void. Killing intent poured down like a tangible blaze.He raised another fist. Before it even landed, the gale at its edge flayed the dust to air.Bang!The Holy Emperor’s chest was punched straight through. Blood burst like a flower. His armor shattered; a hideous hole tore open across his front. He was blasted backward, blood running in a steady ribbon from his lips, his eyes wide with a terror that couldn’t focus—grasping at reality’s edge and finding nothing.The rim of the armor writhed, trying to stitch itself—futile against the gaping wound.He lifted his gaze in disbelief, and for the first time, true fear flooded his eyes—the primal dread of t

He pulled a breath, dragging his sight back from the dark. He looked up into the Ardenian youth’s face—indifferent, eyes like a winter lake, unruffled.“Your strength isn’t bad,” Anthony said, mild, with a flat contempt folded into it. “Unfortunately for you, you’re facing me. Which makes everything you do useless.”He tipped his chin, the cold at his eye’s corner cutting sharper. “So this is the Solar Kingdom’s best? No more than this.”Contempt, complete and entire.“In all martial ways, speed breaks all.” He sheathed in one clean motion, his pace itself a declaration. The Holy Emperor was fast—unquestionably. But he was facing Anthony. That alone sealed his tragedy.In a handful of exchanges, Anthony had hammered the Holy Emperor’s confidence to splinters. He had never imagined the man before him could be this absurdly strong. Terror—there was no other word in the minds of those watching.To Anthony, it was nothing. His gaze stayed cold; his killing will drew tighter.The Holy Empe

The heaving air over the four quarters suddenly sank. A darkened silhouette dragged itself out of the heights of the sky, like a deeper thread of night within the night, easing toward them. It had no sound, no scent; even the grain of its aura felt sanded smooth—more secret than a ghost, like a frost-sheathed dagger settling wordlessly to the throat.A heartbeat later, a figure fell from the heights. He touched down without a sound, yet his presence tore the silence around him. It was a tyranny that needed no words; with just an inch of ground underfoot, hearts clenched.“Holy Emperor!!”“The Holy Emperor is here!”“Lord Holy Emperor, a god forever…”“Lord Holy Emperor, mighty and unyielding!”“We can kill these Ardenians now…”“We must kill them…”The boiling shouts surged like oil set alight, raising the temperature of every throat at once. The Holy Emperor revealed himself—a man in his middle years, features unassuming, but a severity honed to lethal stillness. When his gaze droppe

Before the overturned table stood a man bowing his head, apologizing over and over. From this distance, his words were lost in the noise. The brute facing him, however, wasn’t having any of it—he grabbed the man by the collar and hurled him to the ground.The owner of the neighboring stall fell silent on the spot. Adrian, a trained fighter with keener sight than most, noticed a crushed cigarette butt beneath the man’s foot.“Old Thompson,” the brute sneered, “what’s it gonna be—pay up, or pack your junk and scram?”“Mr. White, I…”“Save it. None of your business,” he snapped at the neighboring stallholder, who shut his mouth at once. He glanced at his friend sprawled on the ground and sighed. This was a man none of them could afford to cross.Old Thompson, the one Mr. White had thrown down, fumbled upright, his face drawn with worry.“Mr. White, please—can you give me a little more time…”“Say that again?” Mr. White drawled. “Old Thompson, it’s not like we’re unreasonable people.”See

Realizing Adrian had completely misread her, Daisy’s face darkened for a moment.“I meant giving you shares of Hill Group! What on earth is going on in that head of yours?”Adrian lowered his gaze and rubbed the bridge of his nose, faintly disappointed.He hadn’t heard the whole sentence—hardly his fault.Daisy shook her head, exasperated. “I’ll have Legal draft the contract right now.”“That’s not necessary. Handing you the formula was my choice.”“If I say you’re getting it, you’re getting it.”Before Adrian could argue, Daisy strode off to the legal department.Was it really that urgent? Adrian lounged in the office chair, idly thumbing through a stack of files. In any case, he and Daisy would be family sooner or later; he didn’t particularly care about the formalities.Truth be told, as long as he wanted something, lack was never his problem.To Daisy, however, Adrian’s abilities were a treasure in their own right. It wasn’t that she distrusted him—quite the opposite. But what’s o

“Sob… fine, I’ll kneel… I’ll apologize…”It was bullying, plain and simple. Tears and snot ran down J. Ino’s face.Adrian wiped his hands on the man’s jacket with open distaste before rising to his feet.Ino scrambled up and staggered to Neil Peterson, then dropped to his knees with a thud.He opened his mouth and spat a mouthful of blood—two teeth clattered out with it.“Mr. Peterson, I’m sorry. I took advantage and went for a sneak attack. I was wrong.”“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come to your dojo when you were hurt and laid so many of your people out. I was wrong!”“I’m sorry. I lost and still tried to ambush you. I was wrong!”On and on the apologies went, piling detail upon detail as if terrified that anything less than exhaustive remorse would earn him another beating from Adrian.Neil pressed his lips tight. The whole hall stared, eyes threatening to pop from their sockets.Everyone silently agreed: anything involving Adrian had to be handled with extreme caution.Terrifying

Neil Peterson took a step forward with a barked challenge—but before the words had fully left his mouth, J. Ino moved. The sudden strike was so swift it startled the crowd.Fortunately, Neil’s reflexes were faster; he slipped aside and the blow cut air.“Snatching the initiative like that—despicable,” Adrian sighed. Shameless, indeed, as the disciples had said.“Coward!”“He even went for a cheap shot!”“Scum—afraid you can’t win straight up?”The jeers rolled on, but the two men in the center paid them no mind.Ino ignored the noise. His first strike failed, so he launched a second, eyes locked on Neil, feet driving hard as he shifted from open hand to a fist aimed at Neil’s face.Prepared this time, Neil would not be taken. He intercepted the seemingly crushing blow and countered with his free hand.Pinned by Neil’s grip, J. Ino’s arm wouldn’t budge; he had to wrench his left hand free just to barely keep up. Inside, he was rattled—Neil was locking down half his body with a single h

“It’s over! It’s over, over, over…”Seeing Neil Peterson spit such a mouthful of blood, Vincent Wallace spun in frantic circles. If Adrian were blamed, what then?Adrian, unruffled, stepped off the bed and moved aside with a faint, amused curve to his lips as he watched Neil.Neil caught his breath, then flipped off the bed in one fluid motion, startling Ronald as he rushed to his side.What on earth—“Master, you’ve given me a second life. Please accept my bow.”He sank to his knees and knocked his head to the floor, earnest and unflinching.The thud left everyone dumbstruck.In the space of a single day, Ronald’s sense of the world had been overturned too many times to count. He couldn’t keep up.Neil had been confined to bed for four or five days—without even water these last two—so weak a toddler could have toppled him. Now he moved with the vigor of a man in his prime—and then kowtowed, and to a young man even younger than Ronald himself.The room was packed, yet utterly silent.

Ronald Peterson hauled the collapsed Neil Peterson upright. His father’s burning skin sent him into a blind panic, and he turned to Vincent Wallace in desperation.Vincent didn’t dare make a reckless move. The dojo disciples crowded around him, pleading for help.“Mr. Peterson isn’t an ordinary man. A martial artist’s physique is… different. I’m out of my depth.”“He’s burning up—he won’t stop shaking!”“Dr. Wallace, could you take another look at my father?”Ronald’s voice trembled as he begged, forcing himself to stay calm. He had never pleaded with anyone like this.Vincent couldn’t bear the sight. Neil’s body shuddered; an unnatural flush crept over his face.Seeing Vincent step forward, Ronald quickly eased his father back onto the bed and made room.Vincent took his pulse—and his brow knit at once.“Doctor, how is our chairman?”“Quieter—let the master work.”Vincent exhaled hard. His expression offered little hope. He could tell Neil’s condition was deteriorating by the breath,