検索キーワード： 著者 "Cassius Lange" すべてのカテゴリー

It only took the end of the world to find my calling. Unfortunately, getting rid of humanity's biggest internal threat was just the start of my trials on Gaea. Just a few short days after my friends and I defeated Roman, the System gleefully informed us about a hidden world event. We have no idea when it'll strike, nor do we know when the two alien species brought to our corner of Gaea will appear. Even worse, Boris and Miki have vanished. With the two brutal criminal bosses lurking in the wings, no human is safe.

My life was ordinary, but never boring. That is, until a colossal tower landed smack-dab in the middle of the city. What should have followed was mass panic and hysteria, but I never got to that part. Why? Simple. I was taken along with 99,999 other people from Earth and dropped onto an unknown world. Strange beings appeared before us—floating, featureless figures that call themselves demi-gods. They ruled this place, this fantastical world called Gaea. The reason why they took us? We'd supposedly been selected to show that Earth was worth saving from an upcoming cataclysmic event. 

The Great Ones arrived on Earth and conquered us with little bloodshed. They collected our strongest warriors and shipped them off to a world called Hadran—a one-of-a-kind artificial planet, a cosmic gladiatorial arena where the slave races engage in blood sports for the Great Ones' entertainment. But Earth has lost the last of its real champions and now risks losing its candidate status. If that happens, it will become less than a slave colony.

I was the Ashlord—a primordial, an apex predator amongst beasts, commanding legions. I fell, despite my power, although not due to the strength of my enemies...but the betrayal of my own kind. A voice whispered to me as I lay dying on the cold ground, promising rebirth and revenge. Accepting...

I woke up in a battlefield triage tent, bloody, battered, and crippled. It wasn't just my arm and shoulder that was broken, but also my mind. I couldn't remember anything—my name, who or where I was, or what had happened to me. Could things get worse? Of course they could. The battle wasn’t over, and it appeared that our enemy wasn't content with just a victory. No. They sought to wipe us out. But why? If I lived long enough, perhaps I would find out.

Not everyone gets a second chance at life. I, however, kind of lucked into mine. Thrust into the body of a dying man, I fought to break free, made a few friends along the way, and started down the long and treacherous path of revenge.

My name is James, but my mom’s the only person that can call me that. To everyone else, I’m JD — a struggling artist, working my fingers to the bone for my shot with one of the big comic book companies. Oh, and I work nights, managing a dive called Judson’s Bar and Grill. I know: the dream life. Things were boring, disappointing, even. Until one fateful night when everything changed.

This is the story about how I died. Not really.... I mean, I don't remember most of it, thank goodness. Long story short, I was betrayed. Some people I thought I could trust invaded my sky palace, stole my women, and enslaved my pet shadow hounds. I was destroyed, utterly. Or so they thought. Somehow, mana, the source of my previous power, brought me back. The backstabbing weasels think they are safe, barricaded in their strongholds. Here's the horrible part. They willingly sacrificed their own flesh and blood for security. And they had the nerve to call me evil?

I am Garren Holt: Road Warrior. Donkey Whisperer. Monster Magnet. Harem Hauler. Round Two, Start! The bear’s dead, and the road ahead is wide open. I have survived monsters, bandits, assassins, and my own donkey’s attitude. Now we're rolling out to New Bastion, where the rift is fresh, the need for supplies greater, and the women are bolder.

Tap the cask and mind the Lanes. No favors, no leashes. Opening Night’s epic hangover is interrupted by a shiver that runs through the Hollows. Then, just as we’re recovering, a Smiling Man tries to buy The Butt and Beam from under me. And then a bikini-clad vampire begs me for sanctuary with her angry father on her heels. So, yes. Things are busy. I’m Chris Holloway, Landlord, still the only bloke in Pant-y-Giggles and still learning the Way of the Hollows.

Silas Stone is the lead singer of Blood & Honey, a man who lives for the roar of the crowd and the heat of the stage. As the front man of a duo rock-act in the city of Chi-Tek, alongside childhood friend Ruby Martin, his magic is mostly a gimmick. A way to flash some lightning and keep the groupies coming. It’s a simple life until the portals return and monsters tear through the stadium, turning a sold-out show into a bloodbath and feeding ground. In the middle of the chaos, Silas discovers he is more than just a well-trained combat mage. He is a descendant of the Raiju.

Brew the beer and light the Hearth. No ifs, plenty of butts. I’d been looking for a way to leave my old life behind, so inheriting a battered old pub in the middle of nowhere was the perfect excuse. Flying in from America, I was keen for a chance to get my head down, lick my wounds and figure out my next steps. It turned out, though, there’s all sorts of unusual expectations of the landlord in the village of Pant-y-Giggles. From renovating the building, to learning how to brew, to embracing the Way of the Hollows, I very quickly had my hands full.

Leider haben wir keine Zeit, ihm zu Ehren ein Fest zu feiern – die ganze Welt ist verrückt geworden und wird von korumpierten Monstern bedroht. Borealis war unglaublich wütend, dass Chester sie vergessen hat und in einem Anfall von Trotz hat er unsere Welten miteinander verschmolzen. Jetzt stecken wir alle in einer bizarren und gefährlichen Höllenlandschaft fest, in der die Verderbnis aus jedem Dungeon strömt. Die Kraft, die ich gesammelt habe, reicht nicht aus, um dieser Katastrophe Herr zu werden.

Frank Midnight is on a roll. He’s been making a name for himself in Sankta Varath as a shrewd businessman, merciless killer, and welcoming club owner. He’s sporting some of the meanest weapons and toughest armor in existence, and rides a deviltail mount through the city like a boss. Frank Boss as the orcs call him. Yet, the man isn’t happy. How can he with a thousand voices screaming in his head and the Quinta Empire advancing on Steelheart. Nothing can stop them, not even the might of the Three of Steel, the brutality of Castilian, or the…mildly annoyed Frank.

Frank and his adopted family have plenty of work to do. The guests are thirsty and they want new drinks, the walls yearn for more heads...er, trophies, and his purse dreams of being just a bit fuller. Popularity is never something Frank yearned for, but the club has made him rather important to the Ashpit and its inhabitants. But not everything is roses and sunshine when Frank is invited to a meeting of notable Sankta Varathian club owners. Deals are offered, new faces promise him the world, and gold begins to flow...but as it usually goes, everything that seems to good to be true, usually is.

I am Garren Holt: Dead Trucker. Reborn Brawler. Donkey Sidekick. Harem Magnet. Real heroes never die. They just get sent somewhere else. One minute I'm hauling 600 HP of diesel fury. The next, a bear the size of a semi punches my isekai ticket and portals me into a medieval forest. Stats flood my vision. A smart-mouthed donkey bonds to my soul and won't shut up about 'delivering freedom' with his kicks.

A newly-minted Hammerlord, Ash, finally has a home of his own and a party he’d fight and die for. The next chapter in his life is about to start, but along with that come many responsibilities, like…where do they put the monster trophies? And who gets what room? Sometimes it is good to have simple problems as every new dawn somehow piles on more and more dangers on his plate. House Domitius is still coming for the smithy and for Ash’s parents. They will stop at nothing, when a familiar face returns with reinforcement, even bending the guild and bank to their whim, or using deadly force.

Frank Gerber isn't happy. At all. Being a bounty hunter sucks. Even more so when it pays very little. What sucks even more is that his client decides to skip payday. A pimp dressed in a frilly pink suit. Can his day turn even worse? It can when polite conversation turns into unabashed violence, and Frank finds himself the new owner of the most rundown joint in the Ashpit. With a mounting debt, not nearly enough booze, and a single bartender in his service, he will have to do... yeah, he doesn't know what yet, but he will eventually find out. Everything can wait.

Debt-serf. Scavenger. Nobody worth remembering. In Alnda, that’s all Alaric was ever supposed to be. Something others had planned for him. But with CD, Elli, Seo Rin, and Yesabel at his side, Alaric’s building mechs, making allies, and carving a future society never wanted him to have.

Ich wachte in einem Zelt auf dem Schlachtfeld auf, blutig, geschlagen und verkrüppelt.Nicht nur mein Arm und meine Schulter waren gebrochen, sondern auch mein Verstand. Ich konnte mich an nichts erinnern—meinen Namen, wer oder wo ich war, oder was mit mir passiert war. Konnte es noch schlimmer werden? Sicher. Die Schlacht war noch nicht vorbei, und unser Feind gab sich nicht mit seinem Sieg zufrieden. Nein. Sie wollten uns auslöschen. Aber warum? Wenn ich lange genug lebte, würde ich es vielleicht herausfinden.