Novels by okpe Richmond

Boros stroked his chin slowly, turning the word over in his mind the way a jeweler turns a stone under light."I'll have to look into the alchemy of this world," he said, almost to himself."You can't just shake off my question."Yelan had moved. She was standing directly in front of him now, arms unfolded, chin lifted — close enough that most people would have felt the pressure of her presence.Boros looked at her.The full weight of whatever was behind those eyes landed on her without apology. Yelan almost took a step back. Almost."For someone who didn't recognize what I just did," Boros said evenly, "you're being awfully persistent."She turned her head to the side. Just enough to break the line of his gaze, finding something else in the room to look at."Your appearance is different from the rest, but I don't plan to question you about your past," Boros continued, his tone unreadable. "But don't overstep your boundaries; most things are beyond your comprehension."A beat of silen

He went to work smoothly, making a swift, precise incision to examine the internal structure with quiet, detached curiosity.Moving systematically down through the torso, he mapped out the anatomy with clinical efficiency, carefully examining each structure he encountered. The subject remained stubbornly, indifferently alive.By the time he finished, his white coat was still pristine, but his gloves were soaked through with dark red. He straightened, stepping back from the table, and raised both hands before his face.He stared at them.For just a moment—barely a second, like a light flickering in a storm—his hands changed. The gloves dissolved. The skin beneath rippled and shifted, the fingers elongating, the surface losing its human texture entirely before snapping back into shape. Clean gloves. Unmarked skin. As if the blood had never been.He lowered his hands.Boros looked back at the man on the table, who, against all reaso

Boros woke as warm arms wrapped around him from behind. Yelan pressed against his back, her hands resting forward over his chest, holding him gently. Her voice was soft, still laced with exhaustion. “You didn’t get any sleep.” Boros replied calmly, “It appears so.” Yelan shifted slightly, her breath warm against his shoulder. “What are you planning to do today?” Boros let out a slight chuckle, the sound low and filled with dark promise. “Create life.”The procession moved through the torchlit corridor. Men and women in rags, bound at the wrists by iron chains, shuffled forward in a single file, their hollow eyes fixed on the stone floor. Cult members in dark robes flanked them on either side, wordless and efficient, herding the prisoners the way a shepherd herds livestock.At the front of it all stood Stone, the Overseer.He stood just inside the entrance of the Head Priest's laboratory, lips moving faintly as he count

Boros stood there for a moment, posing in his new body while looking down at the face of his shocked captive. *That was reckless,* he thought. *From now on, I should practice any new skill on something other than myself. Ouroboric Transmutation… what a decision. Breaking down matter and reconstructing it. It has plenty of room for further testing.* The female cultist on the bed murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “What are you?” Boros ignored her. He stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her up toward him with effortless strength. Catching her by the waist, he dropped onto the edge of the bed, pinning her in place. He began his interrogation without hesitation. His grip tightened around her, his heavy authority overwhelming her resistance as she shivered under his cold, calculated stare. Leaning in close, his lips brushed past her ear, his breath hot against her skin as he exerted his dominance. She jolted in surprise, trying to pull back from his overwhelmi

After shutting the door behind him, Boros walked up to the front of his captive. He stretched his hands across the room, lifted a chair, brought it in front of her, and set it down backward before sitting. He looked into the eyes of his captive, then lowered the gag tied around her mouth down to her neck. “Let’s start simple. What’s your name?” The black-haired woman refused to respond. Boros tilted his hollow face. “This is you.” He stretched out his hand and morphed his fingers, shaping them into a perfect miniature female model. “My cells are distributed all over your body. This is you.” He paused, letting her stare at the tiny figure. “If you don’t answer my questions…” The model exploded and melted away in his palm. He reshaped his hand back to normal. “Now do you understand?” The female cultist sneered. “Go ahead and blow me apart.” Boros slapped his own face. “I’m no good at interrogating women I want to bed.” *What to do,* Boros thought. *I can’t safely read the me

"Center of all, Draw the world to thy heart. Let the many become none. Collapsing void.”Alistair completed the harsh, desperate syllables of the chant, sweat mixing with blood as it poured down his face. Cold, biting panic clutched at his chest as he felt the utter silence of his ruined utility networks. The instant-casting floor runes were gone, his spell acceleration was dead, and the female acolyte in the rear was already gathering fire while the aura-wielding swordsmen closed the distance. He was being pushed into a corner, stripped of his advantage.*No... I won't die here to these meat puppets!*His fingers gripped the few remaining chant-shortening charms hidden in his inner robes. He knew Stone was still down in the lower corridors, ruining his major arrays. A desperate, dark sneer formed on his lips as he muttered through clenched, blood-stained teeth:“I’ll drag you back here with my teleportation array... I’ll pull your broken body right into the core of the collaps