Novels by Liu Chin stories

The descent from the Outpost of Valis was not a march; it was a hunt.A brutal, blinding sheet of mountain ice tore through the eastern valley, burying the tracks of anyone foolish enough to tread into the white abyss. But Prince Ragnar did not need standard tracks. He could smell the ozone stench of corrupted imperial sorcery cutting through the clean mountain air. The spatial feedback of the ruptured portal had left a lingering, foul scar across the valley—and it pointed directly into the dense, black pines of the Ironwood Forest below."The wind is turning, Alpha," Torin rumbled, his massive boots sinking knee-deep into the fresh snow drifts. Behind him, the remaining two hundred and ninety-five barbarians moved in a silent, lethal column, their stolen imperial rations packed tight and their newly acquired iron axes slung across their broad shoulders. "If the boy was thrown into this storm half-conscious, the frost will claim him before the night ends. Even with imperial magic, a b

The air shrieked as the jagged, single-edged blade sliced toward Ragnar’s neck.He didn't have time to bring his greatsword up to parry. The compliance runes on Eran’s neck burned a violent, toxic crimson, forcing the boy to move with a speed that defied mortal limits. Ragnar ducked, the kinetic hum of the enchanted metal passing so close to his ear that the displaced air tore a fresh line of blood across his cheek.Using the momentum of the dodge, Ragnar lunged forward, dropping his greatsword entirely. The heavy dark iron weapon clattered loudly against the stone floor. He didn't want the blade; he wanted his brother.He slammed his massive, soot-stained arms around Eran’s torso, tackling the young executioner away from the swirling vortex of the violet portal. The two brothers crashed violently into a heavy oak table, smashing it into a spray of splinters."Get off me, rebel!" Eran hissed.The boy didn't fight like a prince; he fought like a wild animal trapped in a cage. He drove

The iron gate groaned under the relentless assault.BOOM.Every strike of the heavy imperial axes wielded by the barbarians sent violent vibrations shuddering through the reinforced frame of the fortress doors. Wood splintered beneath the iron plating; rivets popped out like deadly shrapnel, clanging against the stone steps. Ragnar stood at the front of the line, his blistered left hand tightly wrapped in torn, bloody linen to maintain his grip on his greatsword."Again!" Ragnar commanded, his voice raw.Torin and three of the largest berserkers slammed their stolen weapons into the central seam of the gate. With a deafening screech of tearing metal, the heavy locking mechanism inside the door finally sheared in half. The massive iron gates burst inward, crashing against the interior stone walls with a force that shook dust from the ceiling."Form line! Archers, release!" an imperial officer screamed from inside the darkened entrance hall.A volley of black-fletched arrows whistled th

The torch fell in slow motion.It was a tiny, flickering speck of orange against the dark mountain sky, but the moment the open flame touched the black, volatile oil coating the courtyard, the world exploded into a roaring hellscape.BOOM.A wall of violent, unnatural heat erupted from the stone tiles, climbing thirty feet into the air in a fraction of a second. The thick, oily substance drenching the bodies of the dead and the armor of the living ignited instantly. The narrow inner courtyard transformed from a cold stone sanctuary into a suffocating, blinding furnace."Shields up! Back to the outer gates!" Torin roared, his voice barely cutting through the deafening crackle of the raging inferno.The three hundred barbarians, despite their fierce and lawless nature, were forced into a desperate scramble. The black oil was pooled deep in the grooves of the broken stone tiles, sticking to their fur cloaks and leather boots like liquid fire. Several warriors screamed as the flames licke

The words hung in the smoky, blood-drenched air of the courtyard like a death sentence.By order of my father, Overlord Malakor…Ragnar couldn’t breathe. The massive, dark iron greatsword that had felt like an extension of his own arm for the last ten years suddenly grew impossibly heavy, its tip dipping toward the crimson-stained stone tiles. The roaring battle fury that had carried him through the ravine and broken the imperial shield-wall evaporated, leaving behind a cold, hollow void.He stared at the young executioner standing on the steps of the inner keep. The boy’s dark velvet cloak ruffled in the freezing mountain wind. The silver-plated armor caught the flickering orange glow of the burning barracks, reflecting light off the polished imperial crest emblazoned across his chest. But Ragnar wasn’t looking at the armor. He was looking at the face.The soft roundness of childhood was gone, replaced by the sharp, aristocratic angles of their father’s lineage. Yet the slight indent

The warning horn from the imperial border fortress didn’t just wake the valley; it shook it."They know we're here, Alpha," Torin spat, wiping a thick layer of imperial blood from his bearded chin. "The fortress at the base of the pass is already scrambling their heavy shield-walls. They’ll try to box us into this narrow ravine.""Let them try," Ragnar growled, his boots crunching over the frozen ground as he moved past the corpses of the vanguard. "We don't give them time to organize. If we stop marching, the mountain becomes our grave. We strike before their gates fully open."The three hundred barbarians didn’t need a secondary order. They moved like a pack of starving wolves, sprinting down the steep, icy incline toward the iron-clad gates of the Outpost of Valis. The fortress was built into the very rock of the mountain, a monolithic structure of black iron and jagged stone meant to keep the northern tribes out.As Ragnar’s force rounded the final bend of the canyon, the fortress