Arknights Fang Novels & Stories

The rune lit—silver then red—casting warped reflections on their troubled faces. Elara stepped forward. She placed her hand on the rune’s surface. Images flashed in her mind: ancient shifters kneeling to a queen bathed in flame and void. Twins—one named Memory, one named Flame—caught between love and loss, fed to the Fang to seal its anger. She stumbled. Her hand fell. Lerder steadied her. “Tell me what you saw.” “Eluna. Memory. Sacrifice. The Fang made hungry on promise and blood.” Aryn’s hair billowed, though no breeze stirred.

Dick spun, a deep frown creased his eye brows. "Ha!" Their voices were loud and it sounded like a fight had started. A smile graced her cupid bow lips as her heart flipped. It must be Logan. He had found her and was there to save her. "Logan!" She screamed joyfully, running into the fight scene. Her face dropped and her lips were primed. Her heart broke into tiny pieces when she saw a strange brown skinned man with brown locks on his head, holding a crossbow in his hand and shooting out arrows to werehyenas.

Suitable for archers and rangers. Weapon: Twin Fangs Weapon Level: 20 Weapon Type: Rare Weapon Requirements: +90 Att, +25 Dex Weapon Attack: 250-300 +30% Critical Damage chance +12% chance to induce laceration/bleed on target, forcing the target to lose 3% health every 2 seconds for 10 seconds. Description: Twin daggers made from the canines of a mutated wolf monster. Suitable for both rogue and assassin-type players

Closing his eyes he starts again. “The Red Fang territory is basically a box surrounded on four sides by other packs. White Fang is to the east, White Moon is to the north, Red Moon is to the west and Crescent Moon to our south. We’re already allied with White Fang and White Moon packs. They are the ones in charge of our warrior training. Red Moon hates us and actually sold off some of their land to create a buffer between us and them but that didn’t keep dad from trying to get a betrothal out of them. It took nearly a year before dad gave up trying to ally with those who hate us and started talking to the Alpha of the Crescent Moon pack. They have a huge territory, an impressive warrior pro

I set my silver fork down, leaning forward just enough so my dark, glowing wolf eyes reflected in the torchlight. "If the High Assembly challenges me," I purred softly, my voice laced with the cold authority of my reawakened soul, "I will shred their arguments on the Council floor—and I'll start by stripping your lineage of its trade rights." Fangfei’s smug expression instantly vanished, her throat working as she swallowed hard against the sudden, terrifying pressure of my latent Luna aura.

She nodded. The truck engines roared. The road west waited. But behind them—in the dark woods— Riven crawled from the end of the tunnel, blood pouring from his wounds. His phone shook in his hand. He called weakly. “Blackthorn… tell Thorne… two Silverfangs now. Female. Pure. Coming your way.” He laughed, blood bubbling. “Make them pay.” The phone dropped. He smiled coldly. Revenge wasn’t over. It was just starting bigger.

I barked. “You already know the answer to that,” she said sadly. She was right and I hated the fact that she was right. I pushed to my feet and clutch the sides of the walls desperately to steady myself. I took a deep whiff of the air around the cave, I needed to find the fang fast. Maybe it was the pain that heightened my sense because I smelled the dust oozing from the obelisk. I weaved through the channels till I found it resting on a pedestal made of fused obsidian, was the Fang.

Ryle calmly asked, raising her brow. “Who are you to question?” Bruce growled. He’s one of our more traditional males who believes that women aren’t made to fight. They are made to be seen and not heard. Ryker bristled at Bruce’s comment. “My name is Ryker RedFang and she,” he pointed to his sister, “is my sister, Ryle RedFang and we are RedFang Defense, your Elite warrior trainers and my sister is your future Luna.” he smirked.

She met the creature’s charge head-on, ramming into it with bone-cracking force. It shrieked—a sound that didn’t belong in any natural throat. Jaxon cut through the second one before it could reach her, slicing from hip to collarbone. It burst into dark smoke as it fell, its form unraveling. Two more burst from the brush. One went for Racheal’s back. But something inside her reacted. Light. Silver light, like moonfire, erupted from her skin as she spun, her claws glowing. The Fangborn shrieked again, but it was too late. Her slash tore through it—and it didn’t just die.

The torchlight barely showed the stranger’s face, but Lesley caught the flash of a mark on the wrist… silver ink in the shape of a fang. Her lips parted, a slow smile unfurling. “Silver Fang.” Her voice was hoarse from disuse, but the taste of those words was sweet. Silver Fang meant enemies of Ryder. Silver Fang meant wolves who might hate Crystal as much as she did. The figure pressed a finger to their lips, then slipped the bundle between the bars of her cell. The package was no larger than her palm, but the weight of it was heavy. It was Forbidden magic. She could feel it pulsing even through the cloth.