Altar Blood Magic Novels & Stories

The moment their blood mingled, a violent, breathtaking shockwave of raw magic erupted from the altar. It wasn't the cold, destructive energy of the Abyssal purebloods or the chaotic wrath of Jaxon's ferals. It was a brilliant, blinding synthesis of silver and amber light that rushed down the cathedral aisle like a physical wind. The banners along the pillars rippled, and the massive crystalline windows hummed with a deep, resonant frequency.

It was an art magic that they learned on the academy. Gabriel was the best in art magic. Maybe, chanting was his forte. While, he- he's good in runes and chanting too. Actually he got thirty art magic that he made on his own. One of it he uses four days ago when he was fighting the Darfetious armies. His art magic no. 20, the purifying death. It was a magic that of light element. A purifying death is a magic that purifies those who has malice inside them which was best applies on the human beasts creatures but, it can also applied in every beings including the mythical creature. When the light touches one itself, the stronger the malice the nearest to death.

“I would sense the magic if it were so.” I dismounted and unsaddled Coryfe as the mage sat on one of the branches of the fallen tree and drew from a bag he wore under his cloak, a small book, bound in leather, with curls of metal protecting the corners and clasping the covers shut. “We need a fire,” he said to me, his fingers stroking the cover reverently. There was no writing on the cover or binding, but I could see something had been embossed into the leather. Perhaps the embossing was the shadow of writing that had once been picked out with ink, but which time had faded or flaked away.

The symbols etched into it pulsed faintly with an otherworldly light, as if the spell itself was alive. “This is dark magic,” Althea said, her tone somber. “Blood magic. We’ll need yours and mine, Prisca. It’s the only way to create a barrier strong enough to keep the shadow wolves and other creatures out.” I nodded, though unease settled in my stomach. “What’s the risk?” “The risk,” Althea said slowly, “is losing yourself to the magic. Blood magic always comes with a price. And if we’re not careful, that price could be more than we’re willing to pay.”

Pru grinned. One by one, they pressed their palms to the parchment. The paper hummed under their touch, absorbing their magic like ink. Freda went first, carving her name in elegant, looping script. Pru followed, her letters sharp and angular. Rita hesitated, then wrote hers with a flourish, the parchment warming beneath her fingers. Freda picked up the dagger. "Blood seals the bond. No going back after this." "No going back," Pru agreed. Rita held out her hand. "Do it."

body of one of the magicians, blood was pouring from his torn body. Alud sees the energy ball approaching them, sees the remaining mage already whispering his deadly spell without even getting up from the floor so as not to waste time. The werewolf jumps out of the cage with the ease of a cat and rushes to the corpse of the magician in quick jerks to grab the blade. The ball crashes into the wall next to Lusters. Violet fragments fly in all directions, searing the entire chamber with purple spots. Lasters gets hit by a dozen of these fragments, the vampire howled in pain. Before Alud could reach the weapon, an energy ball flew in his direction. Death seemed inevitable, but the ball explodes

"Alpha death. Luna blood. Mass sacrifice. I have everything I need." The platform was soaked with blood from the fallen warriors. Death magic hung heavy in the air. Arlene smashed the vials. Damoew's stasis-blood poured out, mixing with the fresh death. Dark magic erupted. Darker than before. Stronger. The ground beneath the platform cracked open. And from below, ancient power answered. The Lycan Vault was opening.

The voices of Sacred Blood ancestors who were slaughtered long ago. They echo inside my head, scraping away at my sanity. “Blood must be repaid with blood, Maeve… slaughter them. Rip out the throats of those dogs and drink their master’s blood.” “Shut up,” I hiss quietly. I close my eyes while continuing to pour silver energy into the shadows. The longer I continue, the colder my body becomes. Just a little more… come on, you can do this, Maeve… A large burning hand suddenly grabs my wrist. Alaric forcefully pulls my hand away from the snow.

she asks, intrigued by the idea but unsure how it might work. Agatha moves toward them, her steps light yet purposeful. "Yes," she replies. "When two souls are bound as you are, their magic has the potential to amplify. Each of you brings a unique energy: Tonya, you are attuned to the earth and its nurturing force. Alaric, your strength lies in your connection to the primal, the wild. Together, you create a balance that can harness both the calm and the storm."

"You drank it, my blood, pure vampire blood. Now you are part of the Haltz Clan and my right hand." Al immediately wiped his mouth roughly, "Why are you being so arbitrary!?" he said annoyed. "Oh yeah...? That's just how I am," he replied coldly. #to be continued in Chapter 3.1 - Ignored