A Barbarian Was Admitted To The Academy Novel Novels & Stories

Behind him, two bodies lay crumpled, one half-shifted mid-transition, the other’s throat torn clean through. My lungs clamped tight. He…he too… and way more brutal than anything I had ever seen. I pulled my hand back and took a step back, my large eyes staring at his blood splashed handsome face. He was a beast. And this wasn’t a trial. It was a war. The Academy…the place I thought was built to test, to mold future Alphas and the place to win that unclaimed throne of hundred years wasn’t made of stone and sweat. It was a graveyard.

“Don’t scare her away!” Jeremiah added immediately, “And stop threatening random students!” I turned back once. “Both of you should consider being silent occasionally.” Geoffrey grinned. “You should consider admitting you’re obsessed with Barbara.” I stared at him flatly, then walked out before I actually committed murder. Their laughter followed me down the hallway anyway. Idiots, absolute idiots. But annoyingly, a small part of me still smiled slightly as I headed toward the academy courtyard to meet Barbara. Because for the first time in a very long while, I was actually looking forward to something.

he cut his words "However?," Leon pressed "The brand of sacrifice needs to be placed on the one closest to you," A few more chapters to conclude the first volume of The Lycan Academy, thank you guys for your support this far.

The cold wind whipped through my hair and clothes as we descended, the familiar, sprawling shape of the academy coming into daunting view. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. What on earth was I supposed to tell them? That I had snuck into the forbidden woods in the dead of night, nearly been roasted alive by a territorial wolf, and somehow ended up bonding with the most intimidating, ancient dragon I’d ever laid eyes on? Yeah. That would go over well. Below us, the courtyard was already alive with morning movement—students heading to early classes, a few professors on the steps, security patrolling the main gates. A scene of perfectly normal, routine academy life.

Something to make the barbarian uncomfortable. That confused me though. Who is he to Mardichi that he cares about his opinion? 'Brother.' The recollection dawned on me immediately. But I realized just as fast how impractical that was. They look nothing alike. The barbarian was a great monster of a man. His shoulders nearly twice as wide as those of the other man who was tall and slender. I'd have thought him large before having seen Mardichi. *** "Sebastian." Mardichi sighed in defeat as he watched the other man pressing past him to enter the hut.

It was like my body understood him in a language my mind refused to learn and when he stepped closer, my eyes stung. Not from fear, but from the realization that shook me down to my bones, Some part of him is protecting me and some part of me… is letting him. God help me. I don’t know if this is obsession. Or madness. Or destiny. All I know is that Rolan Baranov is a danger I can’t outrun and worse I’m not sure I want to anymore. ⸻ Next day……. I’ve attended Blackthorn Imperial Academy since I was fourteen, and somehow… the building still feels alive, like it’s constantly watching me.

“I’m a rogue as I’m marked and marted with a rogue. The only thing that makes me different from you because I’m educated. I have completed my studies at The Elite Academy, the academy which is run by….” “God themselves!!” She was cut in between by the same old man who was called as Theodore’s uncle. “Ambrose Wayne.” He introduced himself, on which Liara bowed her head in respect before speaking. “Hello, Uncle Ambrose!!” She greeted him with respect, something that rogues never do.

That was when one of the deputies named Piotr Hortell snapped coolly, "This won't just make our academy famous in Middleton, but we'll also earn the friendship of the Taran Sword Sect, the Jormonts, and the Larvics!" All the elders' eyes lit up, their breaths turning rushed in anticipation. "That's right!" Oars smiled. "We can then invite elders of the Taran Sword Sect to become honorary mentors in our academy. They'd be pleased to accept it!" "Sir…" Someone suddenly began. "If we killed Caleb, the Rags Scholar would—" "Hah! What would we have to worry about?!" Another elder snorted in disdain. "At that point, Rags Willow can't even protect himself!"

His cock, already half-hard beneath his crimson robes, twitched at the sight of the newest captive: a towering barbarian warrior captured from the northern tribes, easily seven feet tall with arms like tree trunks and a bulge in his tattered loincloth that promised exactly what Torvald craved most. The court watched in silence, nobles and warriors alike knowing better than to speak when their king’s hunger stirred. “Bring him closer,” Torvald commanded, voice deep and resonant. Two guards shoved the barbarian forward until he stood at the foot of the throne. The man’s chest heaved, muscles glistening with sweat and dirt from the raid. His eyes burned with defiance, but his cock was already t

At least she wouldn’t get killed, maybe just used, but his prospects were much grimmer. That had been some truly epic bad luck: riding through the mountains, accompanying the baron’s children to the capital—and getting ambushed by bandits, of all things. What could a harmless scholar of ancient languages do with bandits? Die. He could die. They hadn’t let him, though. The bandits had knocked the dagger from his hands and knocked him out with a blow to the head. He had regained consciousness in the cave, inside a cell with enough space for a pig, not a human.