4 Horsemen Of Death Mga Nobela at Kwento

Brand had forgotten what it felt like – the all-consuming need for the blood of his enemies to be spilled on the ground at his feet. Brand shook his head another scream was silenced as he ripped out another throat. The blood dripped from his long snout as he took a breath and looked around him. Leather-clad warriors lay around him, some with eyes open staring at the sky as if looking for the Valkyries coming to take them to Valhalla. Brand snorted. Good luck. He couldn't believe the gods would want any of these followers of a deranged leader in their feasting halls.

Lola understood by now that they were all dead serious about this, so she asked, “So what happened to them? “ Fenna balled her fists, “The Fire Wolves were loved by most of the werewolves. Everyone accepted they should be leading because of their powers. They were strict but also fair so there was peace for many centuries. Until the Grey Oak clan led by Noah his grandfather got jealous. He schemed with other packs that were unhappy. They wanted more power, particularly for men. The Fire Wolves did not believe in privilege by rank or gender. Anyway, they tricked the Fire wolves with the help of the high priestess. They drugged them and burned the whole village with every single wolf in them.

“We saw a scrap of material floating above his Hellhound and knew he had to be invisible. A few carefully aimed shots later, and he fell to the ground with an audible thump.” “We didn’t want to touch him without authorization,” added another, who sounded like he was part-snake. I clapped a hand over my mouth. Griff hadn’t checked his saddlebags. There were six in total, including the general, with their beasts of burden waiting at their sides. Two were white horses with manes of smoke, one was a black one burning red eyes with yellow flames for hair, and the other two looked to be some kind of rhinoceros chimeras that were shaped like triceratops. Then there was the fire-breathing drake.

It was the second half of the scroll. I reached into my pocket and took out my half of the scroll. I was grateful it was still in its airtight metal container, spared from air and water damage. We held them both up together and walked closer to the fire, holding them to the light. As we did, the entire inscription became clear: The Four Horsemen travel a trail to freedom. They leave common ground, Enter a ring of blood, Meet at the house, And find the ones they loved Beside the fourth tip of the cross.

When facing a battle, the most important thing for a Wolf is to believe in his leader. After a while came what the Nolan group feared, their enemy. The opponent has three people, a wolf with yellow fur and a wolf with red fur walking ahead. The wolf with black fur walked behind the other two, his blue eyes making the viewer feel fear. This group of assassins was very different from the usual ones who used to hide and sneak attacks on the Ezra people. But these guys came to be strangely arrogant and cavalier. Had it not been for the declaration of war befra's group would have thought they had come to make friends.

Callie's eyes widened in incredulity. "The apocalypse?" "Armageddon, Ragnarok, and whatever you want to call it." "And two ghosts–" He corrected. "Witnesses." "–are a sign that the world is going to end?" "It’s the first sign. There will be others." "Like?" "War, famine, plague, death," he listed off. "The Four Horsemen of the apocalypse will come and wreak havoc while we’re powerless to stop it."

It's as if there was never a wound in the first place. Ril raised his hand pointing towards the werewolves trying to break the shield far away... a dark light left his hand and attacked the wolves. A blast, I can see it clearly. It was dark yet powerful. Around 20 werewolves died and just dissappeared. I can see that the werewolves observed us at that instant. They are all growling at us. Their faces filled with anger, and the person in front looked like he was in charge of the troops. His single horn in front of his face grew big and the horns of the other wolves, too, started to grow a little bit.

For the first time since everything began to change, I hesitate not because I am afraid of what I might see — but because I am afraid of what I already know. Still, my fingers hover over the deck. A soft glow gathers between the cards, warm and internal, pressing outward through the stack as if something inside them is breathing. Not demanding. Waiting. I swallow and draw from where the warmth is strongest. Death. At first glance, the card is the same. Almost. The armored rider still holds the banner. The horse is still white. The ground beneath its hooves is unchanged. And yet— The horse is no longer charging. It stands.

The doors to the heaven close behind. And a name gets engraved on it. Joining the list of other gods of heaven. Entry no 777 Death Wolf/ Thaneos - The god of Death. .............. The End.................

Ruin War-torn battlefields and the stench of death have been my home for centuries, carving scars on my soul that mirror the carnage I’ve witnessed—and caused. A creature of destruction, condemned to forever walk this earth. Before this lifetime they used to speak my name in whispers. I was known as Conquest, the rider on the white horse. The first Horsemen to signify the end times, but oh, how wrong they were. We’ve been here since the Gods created us; watching, waiting.