Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11)

So Gerravon plundered Spawn, an Iteration rife with unique life-forms. His people gathered creatures from all over the central three planets, transporting biological samples into Void-striding transport ships the size of countries.

Lindon’s right arm blazed with overwhelming, ravenous hunger. It writhed like a bag of snakes, as though every muscle in it had come to life separately. And the scripted cloth Malice had used to seal the limb finally unraveled. The desire to steal, to devour, to take everything hit Lindon in a wave. Above and behind him, reality twisted as an Icon

That wasn’t as simple as it sounded, and Dross knew it. Though they had enough hunger madra to now supply anyone they wanted, an arm would have to be compatible with its host spirit. They would also need a spirit Enforcer technique to separate the madra they drained. And without a mind-spirit to filter out stolen thoughts, they would risk losing th

The crown resisted at first, its embedded will fighting, but Lindon crushed it. Its power flowed into him, a feast for both his Dreadgod arm and for Dross.

[I am greater than I have ever been, and greater than any other mind-construct has ever dared to imagine being. I am the apex of all things.]

While the Abidan read the Way and bowed to the current patterns of Fate, Daruman wrestled destiny and bent it to his own will. He created the future he wanted and projected it in front of himself, and he saw it spin out.

When Orthos stood up for him, Ziel appreciated it, even if he didn’t think the gesture would do any good. The dragons were just being cruel for the sake of it, which had been Ziel’s experience with most dragons he’d met. They wouldn’t go too far, given that Ziel might be able to fight all of them at once. But seeing Orthos defend him made him almos

The residual wills of the two Archlord bindings he was fusing together fought him, trying to take control, each fighting the other to determine the shape of the final construct. He had to master them both, commanding them into shape, and use the blue soulfire burning at the heart of the Soulforge to bind them together instead of his own.

Now, the entire sky was black with clouds, and rain pelted everything in sight—except Northstrider—in a constant deluge. The city shimmered in a rainbow hue, its protective constructs engaged. As dragons of living madra rained from the sky.