Arcane Jinx Grenades Novels & Stories

He said. Season 2 ended here! Author note: Hello everyone!! Please continue to read ARCANUM because, there will be a side story which about Steven and Nicolai. See you on Season 3!!!

Except it felt good. “Breaking news, we just got reports that there are many people trapped inside of the game, Arcane Realm.” The news channel on the television had both Luka and me breaking away from each other to gap at the news reporter on the screen. Luka grabbed the remote and turned the volume up so we could hear what was going on clearly.

After making these, I would work on making some pellets that would contain magnesium and silver nitrate. On another table beside me, Aaron, my cousin, was making some metal beads. He said when detonated, it would disperse silver shrapnel, which could do some serious damage. Also on his table were grenades. Not your typical veteran’s grenade, although they worked the same way—pull the safety and toss. These grenades contained silver nitrate and wolfsbane gas, useful for providing cover. They would do more harm to the werewolves than to us.

"I know, I know. Don't worry about it." Grandma sighed. I heard my cousin, Katie Woods, ask Siena, "Hey, Siena, is that jinx from your family not coming?" "No, she's not coming. My family has been unlucky lately. She's staying in the old house, hiding away." Katie seemed relieved. "Good. I don't want to be anywhere near her. It's the New Year. Don't need to catch any bad luck." My lips curled up in a humorless smile as my heart sank into a cold void.

Dante whispered. He didn't use a frequency. He didn't use a wolf. He reached into his tactical vest and pulled out a Scrapper’s Flare-Grenade—a primitive, dirty piece of Lagos tech. He slammed it into the joint of Julian’s white-obsidian armor. The explosion was small, but it was enough. The concentrated magnesium fire blinded Julian’s sensors, and the heat warped the armor’s neural-link. Julian let out a cry of rage, stumbling back. Dante didn't wait. He lunged, grabbing the jagged remains of a glass shard from the wall and driving it into Julian’s neck—the only part of a Kingslayer that was still flesh.

Clyde’s shadow-wolf snaps forward, his obsidian jaws tearing a deep gouge down Jaxon’s shoulder, the crimson wolf roaring in fury as the black ink of Clyde’s static burns the wound. But as Clyde closes in for the finishing neck-grip, Jaxon retreats a half-step, a desperate, malicious light flashing in his amber wolf eyes. The crimson beast shifts slightly, his massive front paw slamming into a dark, iron-wrought relic embedded in the ice—an ancient, forbidden pack artifact carved from the calcified bones of the First Hearth’s dead. The moment Jaxon’s blood hits the relic, a high-pitched, agonizing frequency tears through the valley. A wave of sickening, grey anti-magic erupts from the artifa

One leg is bound with twine, as if someone has tried to keep him together after dismemberment has already begun. A child’s toy car is clutched in one hand, the fingers curled into fists, nails still intact, each digit like a dried claw. The body is smeared with something — blood, maybe, or old motor oil. Or both. A plastic evidence bag lies next to it, with an old, outdated Apple phone inside. “Is this the body Jinx meant?” I ask hopefully. If this is the cadaver, it means we might find Aria alive. “No,” Alejandro shatters that hope. “This is too old. Jinx is still only on fresh ones.”

And now, here it was, in their midst. Liam, lying on the ground in his final moments, used what little strength he had left to issue one last command. “Run,” he rasped, his voice barely audible as the life drained from his body. “Run...” But it was too late. Jeremy stepped forward, pulling a black bag from his side. He unzipped it, revealing a set of grenades. These weren’t typical explosives, however—they were filled with wolf’s bane gas, a weapon designed to exterminate werewolves without mercy. With a grin hidden beneath his gas mask, Jeremy pulled the pins from the grenades and tossed them toward the group of men.

He ripped off her dress, grabbing her breast with his bloodied hand. He was about to bend her over when he noticed the frown on her face, "What's wrong my love?" Seraphina tried to focus her anger and not moan as he played with one of her nipples, "You called Aria powerful." Julian smiled, "She is but it won't last for long." He revealed a vile-looking artifact, pulsating with dark energy. "This is the Shadowbane Crystal. When combined with Aria's mark, it will corrupt the mark, amplifying the darkness and driving her to madness and destruction. Wolves would have no choice but to kill your sister."

"Explosives? Acids? Mutagens?" "I have a potion that turns people into chickens." "Temporary, usually." Arielle leaned on the counter. "I need anti-magic grenades." "Specifically, ones that disrupt Inquisitor shields." Aris whistled. "Specific taste." "Hard to make." "Inquisitor shields are frequency-modulated." "I'd need a sample of their energy." Arielle held out her hand. She summoned a small ball of purple Void. Inside it, a tiny spark of golden light flickered.