Artorias The Abysswalker Mga Nobela at Kwento

Jack could see it with his debt-sight—a tangle of obligation threads so dense and ancient that they formed a solid mass of crimson light. "You see me." The voice came from the nothing, amused and dry. "How refreshing." The air shimmered, and a figure materialized. It was humanoid, dressed in robes that seemed woven from shadow and starlight. Its face was beautiful and terrible—ageless features that held wisdom and cruelty in equal measure. "I am the Arbiter," the figure announced. "The Ouroboros has sent me to... evaluate your worthiness." "Worthiness for what?" Jack kept his voice level.

"And this machine? It’s a cage. I’m just taking the weight of the bars onto myself so the rest of you can walk out the door." "You aren't the only one who can carry weight," a new voice boomed from the shadows of the doorway. Aris spun around, his hand instinctively going for his blade, only to freeze. Andreas stood there. He was draped in rags of expensive silk, his frame gaunt, his skin a translucent, sickly white from years of stasis. But his eyes—those were the eyes of the man who had built this labyrinth. They were sharp, cold, and utterly terrifying in their clarity.

When I blink the spots away, the Hierarch is gone. A trail of blackened blood leads to a gaping hole in the walla new exit, the fortress reshaping itself. She escaped. With the shard. But the Child "Mama!" They crash into me, small arms wrapping around my neck, their body shaking. Alive. Alive. Arthur collapses beside us, his form wavering, roots retracting, bark sloughing away to reveal patches of too-pale skin. He’s fading. The forest is calling him back. The fortress shudders. The entity’s rage is a living thing, pulsing through the walls.

The necklace could have been dragged further away before sinking, if it was ever to. A sharp uncomfortable noice suddenly pierced into his ear and Scott fell down, holding his ears. His brain then started vibrating and he felt and excruciating migraine. He could not stand it anymore. "Arthmata, Arthmata needs you..." a feminine whisper out of nowhere said. It was actually as if the woman or whoever it was was standing right next to him. "Who are you? Leave me alone!" Scott shouted. "Arthmata, Arthmata, Arthmataaaaa." the voice had now taken an agonizing tone.

While my father flops like a fish on the floor, I take his weapon, kick him in the head and reach for Taryn. Ava slumps against her wall, her eyes wide with shock. However, she looks unhurt, so I leave her and check on Taryn, Blood flows around both women like a pool. As an Assassin, I’ve seen a lot of death and have even caused some of them, but I have never felt fear as I do at this moment. Squatting down, I pull Tamsyn off Taryn.

A spear that can be imbued with elemental magic for Trent with the ability to control ice. Daggers for Luke with the ability to multiply himself. A metal recorder for Athena with the power to see a person’s past and future. Heaps of books for Dion with the ability to copy any material he saw. And for Nicole who is a summoner, she has a space ring. Trent threw something at Celestin, which was immediately caught by the woman even though her eyes were closed. Trent was surprised by what happened because he did not expect that Celestin would be able to catch it.

There were no trails or footsteps for me to follow so I resorted to calling her name but she didn't answer. I kept searching till I saw something that made my heart skip. There were blood trails on the ground,but the rain was washing it out slowly. I quickened my steps and followed the trails till I was almost at the edge of the forest,that was when I saw her,in a pool of her own blood. She looked lifeless and when I checked her pulse,she wasn't even breathing. Still shaking out of fear, I picked her up and raced back to the village. ARIANA'S POV

“So, she is part demon? One of Dante’s sprogs that slipped through the net?” “No,” Lucas leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as a weary sigh escaped him. “Atlas and Amos don’t have wolf spirits remember? Chloe does; Hecate.” “Hecate? What kind of name is that?” “It’s the name of a Greek goddess. As far as we can tell, only the Wolfe line has a wolven spirit with a Greek name. Even Sierra and Alvaro don’t have them. So, how come she has one?” Lucas raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes darkening as the questions piled up. “I think we need to make a call.”

As soon as he stepped out of the gate, two figures blocked his path. It was none other than Arthur and the black-robed figure, Brock. “Zerin, calm down.” Arthur said calmly, “You’re no match for them right now.” When Zerin heard his name mentioned, his eyes widened slightly, and he asked in a cold voice, “Who are you?” “That’s not important. What’s important is that if you go after them now, you’ll undoubtedly die.” Arthur’s tone was very even. “Impossible!” Zerin said arrogantly, “After decades of seclusion, I’ve already reached the realm of the first Divine Step. How could I not be a match for four kids? I’ll definitely capture them and make them kneel before the Allisters.”

"Haha! Don't pity me." Arthas chuckled, his voice tinged with resolve. "I should've met my end a decade ago, but I held on, solely to secure the foundation of the Iversen family for you. Live on, and guide our lineage to greatness." With these words, Arthas retrieved a potion injection and administered it into his aorta. The elixir swiftly permeated his bloodstream, its potent medicinal properties spreading throughout his body. Despite the excruciating pain etched on his face, his vitality surged as he climbed to semi-Empyrean status.