Bound to Evil
They didn’t crawl out of myths, they tore their way through them. Twisted beasts, forgotten monstrosities, returning to remind humanity why even remembering their names once felt like a mistake.
The sky cracked. Fire fell. Oceans boiled. Cities bled. No warning came, only monsters, and with them a power system of unknown origins. Salvation perhaps, but not for all. It gave no strength to the unworthy, no shield to the coward. But to the brave and the gifted, it gave claws. As for the gods... they stood still, silent. But not necessarily uninvolved.
For Lazar, the apocalypse was terrifying, sure. But mostly inconvenient. Nothing ruins carefully plotted revenge like the end of civilization.
Most people crumbled. Lazar didn’t. Hope was a lie, luck was noise—he’d never relied on either. Cold, analytical, merciless: traits that made him dangerous before the fall. Now, they made him untouchable. The skills he’d honed for vengeance were the very ones demanded by this new world. And vengeance doesn’t vanish just because the world ends. It waits.
He walks the ruins with people cut from the same jagged stone. Survivors, killers, outliers who aren’t just tolerated—they’re chosen. Lazar doesn’t carry dead weight. He builds a pack.
They cross blood-soaked cities, twisted forests, and battlefields drowned in ash. The new world obeys one rule: evolve or die. Power comes at a cost, and hesitation gets you eaten.
But the monsters aren’t the only predators.
Some gods want their relevance back. Some humans want order. And some just want Lazar dead—because he doesn’t kneel, doesn’t follow, and doesn’t flinch.
There’s a storm coming. Bigger than the one that ended the world.
And Lazar intends to walk straight through it.
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Hello, I'm Barbare, the author.
I hope you will like this novel and that you will help me improve it if you have something to criticize, I already wrote a novel in the past but I am far from being an expert after all. If you like it let me know by adding it to your library or vote for it.
I hope you have as much fun reading as I wrote, or more because the writing process is not always fun.
Good reading.
