Topher Lydon

Yeah you called it last chapter, and I already had it written for this one, so i was amused. You're always one step ahead of the curve.

ONE more chapter to go for this one.

Rikard, the architect of the GN-2 program The master of Polian resurrection techniques. The only man with the GN-3 data/blue prints and samples Who has the utterly terrifying Peligian technology used to enhance the GN-2's to meta-human transcendence. What is he? Something new. Something he built. And Lukas/Niklaus, was his prototype. What a thing to do to your own child.

The Raptor's common room smelled like ramen. It was an improvement over the old ship. The CSC Raptor had a proper galley—small, but functional, with a two-burner induction cooktop and a microwave that didn't spark when you looked at it wrong. The water from the tap was hot and clean, not the recycled, metallic-tasting stuff from the old ship's tanks. The bowls were actual ceramic, not the disposable synthetic crap from the ration packs. Lukas stood at the counter, stirring a pot of n

Agreed, Ishan was too focused on the cosmic events to pay attention. Also he broke Darien's rules, Darien KNEW this would happen and set several rules in place to prevent it. Ishan ignored them, a little over confident in his own abilities. Had he been in his own body he'd have immolated them, but Wylan isn't a Fire magi, and Ishan realized that simply too late. Bran, however, was a good boy.

Indeed, it... results in some of the most bizarre, and ... darker moments of the crusade. Cannibalism, people wearing the skin of other people. Torture, fanaticism. Madness... Lord Raymond was utterly insane, and Peter whispering in his ear like Wyrmtongue nearly destroyed everything. And when it comes to who is the holiest, neither of them are going to accept competition from a little, blind, saint.

Unarmed

Bran is a good, good boy

The Cathedral of Saint Peter smelled of wet ash and centuries of trapped incense. Its massive stone pillars wept with the heavy damp of a winter that refused to end. Ishan walked slowly through the center nave, his bare hand trailing along the freezing walls, his blind eyes turned toward the space where the high altar stood. Bran pressed closely against his leg, warm and solid, a living, breathing anchor in the suffocating darkness. He had been coming here for three nights, slipping aw

He hasn't noticed it yet. He will.

Eriks claims his Lukas

The CSC Raptor dropped out of hyperspace like a predator breaking cover. Lukas's hands were steady on the controls—they had been steady for the past twenty-three hours, ever since he had pulled the trigger on the last construct and watched the bodies tumble into the void. The combat package demanded steadiness. The withdrawal, lurking beneath the surface, demanded otherwise. But he had learned to compartmentalize, to push the tremor down into the space where the ghosts lived, and for now, it was

Ashot definitely gets Steffy wood. In fact, I promise that they both get wood, and it is entirely due to Ashot's schemes.

Ser Val gets to fight a dragon in "Milo vs the Dragon" Someone has to be Saint George, would suck if he was really a woman

A couple of chapters left. After this, I will release something else for a cycle, then release book 3 "The Lord of the Pieced Dawn" Which will be the fall of Jerusalem. The Sisters of the Nile have come for the Lord of the dawn, and the Saint of the Earth. Their curse will bring Darien to his knees. A Crown and Drown in the dust of Jerusalem! Wylan's war for the soul of the man he loves pushes the Earth Magi to his limits. Ashot has plans, Stephen gets wood, polishes a lance... it's a whole thing. Lloyd comes face to face with the one thing he doesn't know how to fight, a Five foot four powerhouse in the form of a Princess who Julian's father has decided will be the young Lord's wife. And Val? Val gets to beat up more bad guys. So she's fine, honest, nothing to see here. There is a cost to victory. Not everyone gets to go home.

I mean, if anyone would know what's up there, it's Darien

The corridors of the lower palace smelled of spilled copper and voided bowels, a slaughterhouse of shattered marble and torn silk. But when the heavy cedar doors of the royal garrison swung inward, they sealed the butchery away. Darien sheathed his longsword. ‘Fleur de Who Give’s a Shit’ slid into it’s scabbard. He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his breath coming in ragged, painful heaves that rattled his ribs. His scavenged armour was a shredded, blood-choked liability, the iron ri

Mis-timing, slight differences, the fact that there was a space battle disrupting things. Plot... All of these things are valid.

If I could request a small favour of my readers Can I ask for reiviews or ratings on my books here https://www.amazon.co.uk/stores/Christopher-P.-Lydon/author/B0GZ5QKCGS?shoppingPortalEnabled=true or here: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2739825.Christopher_P_Lydon These are incredibly helpful to me, as I am trying to get my full archive up and out, including the books I have held in reserve and will publish here on GA as time allows. Thank you