Anti World Noble Phantasm Novels & Stories

But this is the tradition you will never be told stronger if you won't pass this forest. ___________ KEZTOR_elder "Walter" power_THUNDER FINO: VENOM GUALTIERO: GRAVITY MAI: WATER NARKISSA: NUMBNESS and TELEPORT NUNZIO: VOICE ORAZIO: SNIPER "Warg grandson, that was the list of all your clan allies. Are you sure about this" "I was born ready grandpa this is what I've been training for right? So what are you asking me like that?"

Ingrid pointed with her spoon towards Marcel "What I said is only for the weaker types of undead" "In that way?" “The simplest example would be a Poltergeis, these are spirit-type undead that among the undead possesses a medium-low power range; Like most spirit-type undead, a Poltergeis possesses the special ability of Intangibility, this means that it is immune to any non-magical effect or attack " "How do you defeat that?" "With magic weapons, Spells, or other magical effects, but you must be careful, because if it is not a magic weapon with the enchantment Phantom Touch or spells specialized in damaging undead, there is a 50% that your attack does not affect them"

His power had been weakened, but he was the Legend. Pale flames licked at the grey sky. Dark smoke rose, twisting and curling. When the wind pushed it toward them, he blinked and wept and rubbed their eyes. He turned his head away, coughing and cursing. A taste of things to come, thought Moriah. Many and more would burn before this war was done. Hadassah was robed all in scarlet satin and blood velvet, her eyes as blue as the great ruby that glistened at her throat as if it too were on sea. "

Black as midnight. A phantom.

Despite the lethargy, the cheering from the audience creates a blaring sound that overpowered the entire arena, louder than it could ever be. Of course, it’s Wyatt Benjamin, the one who singlehandedly perished the hundreds of disguised members of Royal Defense sent by the kingdom of dark magicians months ago. Or at least, that's what they thought it is. Crarene, the kingdom of the above-mentioned creatures, is the first and worst enemy of Oqazia. That is why anyone who contributes a lot in solving or stopping the chaos they are constantly causing earns glory from the people.

Rena only rolled her eyes as Lena stifled a snigger behind her hand. Vera's partner remained silent as he smirked derisively and his eyes glinted from under his mask. Silver flashed in Valerian's eyes as Rena noticed recognition hit Val's face. Rena barely had time to grab Val's arm to stop him. Val's usual stoic composure was only ever broken by only one person in the whole of the Seven Realms. Rena's eyes narrowed as she realized why her brother strained against her hold.

Low murmurs ripple through the hall like a rising storm, the weight of unspoken judgments pressing against my chest. The elders, draped in ceremonial robes, move toward the central platform with the solemn grace of those who have seen centuries of bloodshed and hard-won victories. Their faces, etched with wisdom and battle scars, remain unreadable as they take their places. In the middle of a circle of wolves, a frail, trembling figure curls inward, barely clothed, her skin too pale against the flickering torchlight. A vampire—small, human-like, and fragile-looking—yet undeniably dangerous.

Fuck, yeah, she’s a Leonetti wolf and that counts for something. The light intensifies, and for a moment, everything is bathed in blinding white. A deafening roar sounds out, and when I open my eyes, I see the dark smoke hovering above Morana. I don’t see any physical features, but I can feel the absolute hatred this thing encapsulates. Who would worship something like this? When the light fades, Morana collapses to her knees, breathing heavily. Nova steps forward, her expression one of relief. “It’s done,” she says softly. “The Meraloth is gone.”

However, unlike the front, these were raised engravings, not etched inward. The words carved on the back read, [This technique was passed down by the third-generation leader of the Southern Martial Union, Apollo West. This art is the natural nemesis of Phantom Mirage and renders it ineffective. Inferno Strike and Phantom Mirage are naturally opposing forces. Where Inferno lands, evil is scorched to ash. Where Phantom walks, souls rot in silence.]

James and Bridget stared in awe as Clara’s aura pulsed with confidence, strength, and control. Mike’s drones circled her, capturing the moment on their sensors. “She… she’s fully in control,” he whispered. THE FINAL CONFRONTATION The Shadow Leader roared in frustration, his form flickering like smoke. “No! You can not defeat me! The power was meant for darkness!” Clara’s eyes blazed. “Power is what you make of it. I choose to protect, not destroy.” She released a concentrated blast of golden energy. It struck the leader directly, enveloping him in a cage of light. He thrashed, screaming, but the light didn’t fade. Her power was precise, controlled, and unstoppable.