All Chapters of THE VENOMSWORN: Chapter 1
- Chapter 10
14 chapters
CHAPTER 1: THE FIRST SCAR
Pitch black! That was all I could see. We hardly ever experienced night time here on Vxxrrtoea, and if we did it was for a very short period. In fact, we referred to those periods as The Noir. None of us really knew what it felt like to be in complete darkness. It was a strange feeling. The darkness was so complete, it swallowed all sound, leaving only a hollow ringing in my ears. I tried to open my eyes but they felt very heavy. The massive blow must have done a number on me. Time seemed to have paused and everything was moving in slow motion. So, I harnessed the power of time, and tried to pull myself up. But, the air was heavy and thick, pressing in on me with an immense weight. Just then, my eyelids opened up a little and soon, sight! I defied the wind, struck my eyelids wide open and braced myself up for the next impact. “Next impact?” I thought to myself. “How about I become the next impact?” I looked Dallaxxs Blaxskn straight in the eye as a derisive smirk formed on my face. H
CHAPTER 2: THE FIRST WORD
“Kaelen Nox!” I heard a familiar voice call out to me from behind. I turned back instantly, it was JD Blaxskn. He was the guardian of the Crucible of Vxx and a legendary figure envied by all. He was massive and stoic—a towering figure and the embodiment of his clan's brute strength. His form was not just large; it was a solid, imposing mass of muscle and bone, sculpted by a lifetime of combat and trials. His movements were deliberate and powerful, betraying a deep, reserves-of-strength that are rarely needed. As for his demeanor, he was profoundly stoic. His face, scarred by countless battles, showed no emotion. His eyes were calm but piercing, reflecting the wisdom and immense weight of being a guardian and a living legend. This stoicism was a sign of his authority and control, an unshakeable presence in a world of chaos and violence.He had served in the Liberated Liions for thousands of solar years as a common soldier at first and then as a commander. He had led them into numerous
CHAPTER 3: OF FRIENDS AND RIVALS
“Come on, let's take a little walk. I have a few things to share with you.” He got up holding me by the hand. I couldn't fathom what was actually happening. “Now we're taking walks?” “Do you know why we go through these rigorous training sessions to drive out a lot of you and emerge with only a few at the end?” He asked me. His questions were beginning to scare me but I answered them still. “Yes, Sir. To emerge as potential warriors that can protect our planet from threats.” I answered. “Wow! Smart boy. Yes, Yes. Now look around and tell me what you see?”“ I see lush and vibrant trees, Sir.” “Good, now look at the men, what do you see?”“ I see a gallery of survivors, Sir.” “ Yes, you see, the trials serve several crucial purposes for the Liberated Liions. They are more than just tests of strength; they are a fundamental part of the clan's culture and survival. The trials are a profound rite of passage. They are a test that connects each warrior to the clan's history and its foun
CHAPTER 4: THE RITE OF THE SILENT FANG
“Ahem! That's enough!” JD called out. “Let's begin packing, we need to arrive at Venom-Swamp before the moon's light touches the waters.” The joyous din of The Maw fell to a sudden, absolute silence. The laughter and the loud clanging of cups ceased as if a switch had been flipped. Every man, including Titus, snapped to attention, their celebratory moods replaced by a grim, focused resolve. A palpable wave of dread mixed with anticipation washed over the hall. We all knew what came next. As the others began to move with practiced efficiency, gathering their gear, I stood for a moment, the echo of JD's words hanging in the air. The final trial was upon us, a test more terrifying than any we had faced, and it was to be held under the oppressive darkness of the twin moons. The time for celebration was over. The time for survival had begun.The jubilant energy of The Maw was soon a distant memory. The air outside was thick and heavy. I remember it as a humid blanket that clung to our skin
CHAPTER 5: THE PHANTOM OF DALLAXXS
The sound of the trumpet was a raw, jarring blast that sliced through the pre-dawn quiet. It was the only signal we would get. I didn't wait. While others likely charged into the brush, I slid into the nearest thicket, becoming one with the shadows. The swamp was a living nightmare. The Venom-Swamp was a labyrinth of twisted roots and stagnant, black water. The hallucinogenic mist immediately took hold, making my mind a battleground. I saw faces in the swirling haze, heard whispers that called me by name—The Vyper Liions— and felt the chilling sensation of unseen eyes tracking my every move. I fought against the visions, focusing on the real sensations: the sharp sting of the humid air in my lungs, the feel of the cool mud on my skin, and the distant, subtle rustle of life that was not a ghost. This was the first test: staying sane in a world designed to break you.As I struggled my way through the mist, suddenly, I lost my balance and fell. It was strange. I couldn’t explain what had
CHAPTER 6: THE SILENT ASH
“Okay, we both know that you're not real Dallaxxs. You're just a figment of my imagination.” I had to say that out loud— as loud as possible— so that even my subconscious could hear me acknowledge the gigantic phantasm that was standing right in front of me. “Hahhahaha” His laugh thundered. I nearly fell again. “Not real? Why don’t we try that last match again so you can see how real I can get.” He roared. The phantasm lunged at me, and my training screamed at me to fight, but I knew it was a trick. I had to outwit my own mind.I closed my eyes, focusing on the real sensations: the sharp sting of the humid air in my lungs, the cool mud on my skin, and the distant, subtle rustle of life that was not a ghost. Immediately the words of JD Blaxskn replayed in my head as my mind searched for something, anything to hold on to: Your enemy is not one you can meet with a clash of steel. It is the Vyper Liions of the swamp, creatures whose hides are as black as a starless night and whose fangs
CHAPTER 7: TITUS! (I)
All through my years as a young Silurix, I envisioned myself as a soldier in the Liberated Lion Army, standing tall alongside the finest warriors and representatives of the six clans. At first light, the thundering waves of their marching feet, the sound of their anthem, and their unending procession to keep the cities safe gave me a powerful sense of purpose. “Woah! That one's huge.” I remember saying to myself one time as I sighted one of the tallest soldiers from across my Aunt's window. We called him ‘Goran’— Mountain Man. My Aunt and Uncle never sent me to school so I really did have a lot of time on my hands. I wanted to be like Goran but, most importantly, I wanted to feel the sense of purpose that fueled the minds of these soldiers. So, I began putting myself through the most absurd training sessions. They made no sense, really. I remember practicing a 'war cry' in the middle of the grand marketplace but instead I let out the pathetic squawk. I didn’t realize how horrible I s
CHAPTER 8: A BURDEN OF AMBITION
****I was met with complete black! Not the clean, familiar black of a night ambush, but a suffocating, wet blackness that felt like being buried alive.I entered the Venom-Swamp, and the first thing I noticed wasn't the silence, but the smell. It was rot, sure, but laced with something metallic and sweet, like old blood and rotting perfume. The air itself was a living thing, thick with spores and a fine, oily mist that coated my exposed skin and wormed its way into my nose, my mouth. It tasted like dirt and betrayal.They said the mist was designed to test the aspirants, to push us past our limits. That was a lie. It was designed to break us.My Silurix training—all those years of silent motion, of mapping shadows—felt suddenly fragile. It was like a whispered prayer against a screaming void. I stumbled. The ground beneath the moss was treacherous, a slick, collapsing sponge of ancient decay. I had to focus on the feel, the minute pressure difference between a safe root and a fata
CHAPTER 9: A FINAL STEP SIDEWAYS
The sound arrived like a physical blow.It wasn't a roar of battle or a challenge; it was a pure, high-pitched shriek of sheer agony and terror, instantly recognizable, instantly wrong. It cut through the insulating silence of the swamp like a razor across velvet.Titus!The name tore through the haze of the hallucinogenic venom. All the spectral images—the disappointed faces of my aunt and uncle, the silent, judging figure of Titus—vanished. The mist, for one terrifying second, cleared enough for brutal reality to flood in. Titus was close. Too close. And he wasn't fighting the hallucinations; he was being torn apart. I had seen the sign. I had seen his image but I thought it was the swamp playing tricks on me. I ignored it.Now that I had realized how reckless I had been, my feet moved before my mind could process it. A rush of pure, raw instinct—Friend. Danger! Save him! I plunged forward, heedless of the terrain, ripping through hanging moss that stung my skin. I could hear
CHAPTER 10: TITUS! (II)
The Crucible was engineered to break you down, not just with impossible physical feats, but with relentless, gnawing hunger. Every meal was the same tasteless, lukewarm protein paste. They wanted us hollowed out, easier to fill with their dogma.But Titus was the only one who fought the hunger with laughter.“Look at that slop, Nox,” he’d grumble, kicking his boots in the dirt. “If I fed this to a stray dog back home, my mother would whip me.”Titus came from the wealthy Anvil clan; I came from the Silurix alleys, raised by the back of the palms of my aunt and uncle. Yet, the hunger made us equals. And the Instructors’ Mess Hall, forever wafting the rich, forbidden scent of spiced meat and dark sugar, became our common enemy."We need a distraction," he whispered that night in the barracks, the hunger making his voice tight. "They’re too paranoid to let anyone near that kitchen. They guard against strength, but they don't anticipate cunning."The mess hall ran on a main methane l