Arknights Horns の小説・ストーリー

Five people to sneak into the heart of the enemy. They gathered in a smaller cave that served as an armory. It wasn't filled with swords and shields, but with tools of subtle war. Ronan traded his crystal-tipped spear for a wicked-looking knife made of black, volcanic glass, its edge so sharp it seemed to cut the light. He checked the tension of a powerful, compact crossbow, its bolts tipped with a paralytic toxin derived from a desert scorpion.

And as they stepped out into the rising sun, the army of Elyria stirred behind them—ready to burn a path through blood and fire to reclaim what was stolen and bury what had lingered too long in shadow. Before they could say more, the blare of the Nyxorian horn ripped through the thin canvas of Triston's tent, a low, echoing horn, raw, aggressive, that left no room for doubt, cutting through the morning air—a deep, resonant blast that rolled over the plains like thunder. It wasn't merely a wake-up call; it was a challenge, a declaration of intent. The three of them, poised on the precipice of battle, froze for a shared instant, the final remnants of pre-dawn stillness evaporating, the finalit

Andrews screamed from where he had been positioned. Ragnor closed his eyes and his gold wings appeared, his eyes glowed in it's usual colour, his fangs grew longer and so did his nails. He took a few steps towards the gate and elevated him from the ground. Jonas was holding a bow and arrow still standing close to Ragnor.

I traced the hand holding the gun, and my sight met that of the pair of eyes that'll forever hunt me. They were bloodred eyes!

She looked on the verge of crying, he could see her hidden tears. Beside her, Alex and Nikita both looked at him in anticipation. For the first time Arthur averted his gaze from them. He silently gestured toward the butler. The feast began. "As per the sacred traditions of our pack," Arthur announced proudly, lifting his wine glass, "Ten newborn lambs were sacrificed to celebrate this blessed alliance." The silver lids covering the dishes were lifted simultaneously. The rich aroma of roasted meat filled the hall. Violet's blood froze. Lambs!

"Stay behind me." Under different circumstances, she might have argued. Instead, a bitter laugh almost escaped her. The thing emerging from the arch looked capable of tearing down fortresses. Cassian's sword suddenly seemed very small. The creature pushed forward again. A section of the arch exploded outward. Chunks of ancient stone crashed across the snow, and something emerged from the darkness—a massive horn, black as obsidian and twisted into impossible angles. It didn't look like bone. It looked as though a piece of the night sky had been ripped free and shaped into a weapon.

“There’s a lot I want to do with you.” I raised a brow. “What do you mean?” His grin turned dangerous. “You’ll see.” Just as he started pulling me away, a horn sounded. Long. Ancient. It rolled across the grounds like thunder. Once. Twice. Three times. Every wolf around me went still. Then, one by one, they began kneeling. My breath caught. “What—” Sky whispered inside me, Something big. Very big. Another horn blasted. Then drums began. Slow. Massive.

And every time, I knew exactly who he was thinking about. Aria. The realization annoyed me more than I cared to admit. I was still thinking about it when a servant hurried toward me. She looked worried. "Lady Selene." I turned toward her. "What happened?" The servant looked relieved to find me. "We have a problem." "What kind of problem?" "The Mooncrest wine." I frowned. "What about it?" "We can't find it." "The special bottles?" She nodded anxiously. "The Alpha specifically requested them for tonight's banquet."

He had received alarming news, delivered through trembling voices—ancient seal gates by the river had begun to crack, a dark force was rising, and one by one, the kingdom’s protective ward stones were failing. Within the throne hall, the Council convened. “No,” the Luna declared fiercely. “Not while the girl is alive.” Elders murmured among themselves, accusations thickening the atmosphere like a toxic fog. The guards at the entrance shifted uneasily. And amidst it all… a horn echoed. But it wasn’t the normal alarm sound. It was a heavy, deep horn—guttural, resounding, and almost otherworldly. One that seemed to penetrate the walls and resonate within the bones of all who heard it.

But it was his eyes—those pitch-black orbs—that held my gaze. They were endless, deep and fathomless, as though no light could ever escape from them. They seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality, holding within them centuries of knowledge, cruelty, and an insatiable hunger. Atop his head, two horns curved back from his temples, dark and jagged like twisted obsidian. They were sharp and elegant, a stark contrast to the softness of his features. These horns added an undeniable air of danger to his beauty—reminding anyone who looked at him that he was no mere mortal, but something far older, far more powerful.