The Oathsworn Legacy by K. R. Gangi

Rawley and Baelin make a living the only way they know how—protecting the people of Centrum by slaying the dark things that stole their childhood: Monsters, and everything evil.

Though the work never ends, and there’s plenty of coin to go around, Rawley and Baelin discover a sinister secret hidden deep within the crevices of Centrum’s past. Centuries of lies and deceit unravel before them, and they soon shift from mere mercenaries to a force that will last generations.

At least, that’s their hope.

Dwarves in the west, Wroughtmen in the north, Elves in the east, and a tyrant king ruling with an oppressive fist, Rawley and Baelin balance on the precipice of total chaos.

Will everything they’ve accomplished be enough to save them from the shadows rising, or will a plot that’s generations old finally drag everything into the abyss?

The Oathsworn Legacy almost needs two separate ratings from me.

I didn’t connect much with the first half. It felt episodic and scattered, like a string of loosely linked side quests, each with its own monster or mission, but no clear overarching purpose. The story lacked momentum, and I felt like I was just watching characters hop from one distraction to the next. It reminded me a bit of a Dungeons & Dragons campaign where each session throws in something new, but the plot doesn’t quite gel.

The tone early on was also a hurdle for me. The dialogue leaned heavily into modern “young guy” slang, which, while perhaps intentional to show the brothers’ immaturity, felt overdone and pulled me out of the fantasy setting. Combined with the lack of emotional stakes at that stage, it left the characters feeling flat, almost like invincible video game avatars more than people I could care about. There was a lot of “shrug it off and kill more monsters,” and not much in the way of vulnerability, introspection, or consequence.

If I had rated it at that point, it would’ve been a low score.

But then, somewhere around the halfway mark, the story began to shift.

Without me even fully realizing it at first, I started to care. The characters began to take on depth. They were still flawed and impulsive, but they grew. I could see the changes in their decisions, in their relationships, and in how they reacted to the challenges they faced. The plot began to come into focus, and there was a stronger sense of direction, purpose, and even danger. The stakes felt real.

By the second half, I was engaged. The writing found its rhythm, the emotional weight kicked in, and I was drawn into the world. I went from wondering whether I’d even finish the book to being completely immersed, cheering, worrying, and grieving right alongside the characters.

What began as a series of disconnected monster-hunting romps slowly transformed into a genuinely gripping epic fantasy with heart and consequence. It reminded me of Riyria, though perhaps rougher around the edges at first, but the eventual payoff is there, especially if you enjoy seeing characters grow into their roles rather than being fully formed from the start.

I still think the opening could benefit from a bit of tightening—the pacing, the tone, and the slang, but I’m glad I stuck with it. If you enjoy a journey that mirrors the characters’ own development, messy, uneven, but ultimately satisfying, then this is one worth reading to the end.

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