Assassin Creed Arno Dorian Novels & Stories

It wasn’t just another assassin. No. This was something worse. Almost like a demon from hell. The remaining attackers stilled, their movements halting as if waiting for something. Or someone. And then— The doorway darkened. A tall figure stepped inside, his presence swallowing the room whole. He was clad in black, his silver eyes gleaming like ice under the dim light. The other assassins shifted, making space, lowering their weapons. Respect. Reverence. Fear. I knew him before he even spoke. Dorian’s right-hand beta. It had been ages since I last saw him. But his reputation was one of a kind.

Her presence steels my nerves. We reach the clearing. The cave yawns open like a hungry mouth, and the enemy waits. Rogues. Dozens. No masks. No mercy. They form a living barricade around the cave mouth like sentries of hell. And Dorian stands among them. He looks different. Taller. Pale. Something… inhuman. “You’re late,” he drawls. “Touch him and you die,” I bark to my warriors. “He’s mine.” Dorian raises the perfume vial and sprays it across his neck like it’s cologne, not corruption.

Dorian was fighting against Achilles, the strongest expert known to the west, the the God of War of the Divine Clan. Although Dorian, the number one in the last heavenly leaderboard, just began to display his talent in the Inuit's Incident, after entering Heaven's Gate, he had made great achievement in the battlefield of Heaven’s Gate in the past two decades. In terms of talent and abilities, only Little Apple could suppress Dorian. The rest were almost no match for Dorian. Some even said that Dorian would be the first person in the east in the future, putting aside Jason. By this time, Dorian had already had such a potential. He had already surpassed Herbert and Ava.

Dorian's POV It was a good thing that it was late and the street was deserted. Either way, I wasn't taking chances. I had to get him off the road before someone saw us and misconstrued the situation. I did a quick search on him for a weapon and found a gun in his jacket. I looked down to see that it was a suppressed .22. Just the right kind of weapon an assassin would use. “So you were planning to kill me with this, good thing I got to you first. You must be an amateur to fuck up this badly.”

His eyes had gone distant—fixed on something only he seemed to understand. The corridor doors behind them shattered inward. Not opened. Broken. A unit stepped through. Black armor. Council insignia. Suppression blades humming with unstable resonance. Designed for one purpose: Containment of awakened bloodlines. Or elimination. And behind them— he arrived. High Arbiter Dorian Vex. Calm. Controlled. Absolute authority in human form. He did not look at anyone first. He looked toward the direction of the chamber below. As if he could already feel her.

Caspian said with a grin as he folded his arms in front of his chest. “You’re not out to spar with the prince, my lord?” Kael didn’t even look at him. “And correction, Dio is an Armani. He’s not a Romanov.” “I stand corrected, okay.” Caspian smirk when he saw that the two had a serious yet friendly atmosphere. Dio pulled his daggers from the sheath hanging on his waist while Arthur made a vine and make it sharper as a sword.

That brief, unexpected sleep had done wonders for him, clearing his mind and filling him with a determined energy that he was going to channel into this cause. A few calls, a few favors called in, and he could find anyone. He had the money, and the connections, after all. Besides, humans, no matter how meticulous they were, always left trails, even if they took careful measures to cover up behind them. I mean, how difficult could it possibly be? ************** It turned out, that tracking down the mysterious Dahlia—or rather, Barbara Neil Aryan, as he had come to find out that she was called—was proving much more difficult than he had anticipated.

And Dimitrios was stubborn as hell whenever the discussion of letting go of Iris came to the table. Dimitrios returned to his room and sat on the bed after the entire day's work. He was tired as hell because of all the incidents that were happening. He had to take care of Derek. Because keeping him alive was no longer needed. But Iris's sudden outburst made him stunned today. He could never believe that the girl could just run and snatch the gun to kill another one. Who was he kidding actually? The same girl tried to kill him two years back when she had lost her parents. Derek might be right to some certain extent that an Assassin would always remain an Assassin. Because that is what runs in

Bodies littered the floor wolves, warriors, women. Dorian knelt at the center. Broken. Bleeding. His hands were covered in red, and his eyes gods, his eyes were vacant. Hollow. He was whispering something over and over again. Her name. Just her name. And then a shadow stepped beside him. A figure of smoke, crowned in horns, eyes like dying stars. Tharion. He placed a hand on Dorian's shoulder like a father comforting a grieving son. And Dorian wept. "NO!" Seraphina screamed, jolting awake.

Argent’s man, Anarchy, opened the door and retreated to Argent’s office as soon as Violet and Lyria showed up. Anarchy is another gorgeous Assassin that recently transferred from the Canadian division. With his high cheekbones, deep merlot-colored hair, and intense eyes the color of the ocean at dawn, he’s quite a sight to see. We quickly found out that he’s not much of a talker. He’s more the tall, silent type, which was fine by me. We also discovered that he’s uncomfortable with female attention. I give both women a wan smile and take a sip of wine. The scarlet liquid sloshes gently across the rim, letting off a fruity scent.