Asta Black Clover Voice Actor English นิยาย & เรื่องราว

His wolf whimpered deep inside him, clawing at his chest. “No,” Killian snarled, slamming his fist into the ground hard enough to crack the earth. “You’re not gone. You can’t be gone.” The forest shifted. The air trembled. And then a voice. Low. Whispered. Familiar. “You couldn’t protect her… could you, Alpha?” Killian stiffened, head snapping toward the sound. Out of the smoke stepped a figure cloaked in black. His scent hit first — metallic, cold, threaded with something ancient and wrong. The stranger’s face was half-hidden, but his smile gleamed cruelly beneath the hood.

POV: Rhea Mooncrest (Heir-Possessed) "It’s too late, Ash. You gave me the keys to the kingdom, and now I’m turning the lock." The voice that tore from Rhea’s throat wasn't her own. It was a dissonant, multi-layered roar that vibrated with the weight of ancient mountain ranges grinding against each other. She was no longer sitting or lying down; she was suspended in the air, three feet above the ice altar, her back arched at a terrifying, inhuman angle. The golden glow in her skin had been swallowed by a pulsating, ultraviolet darkness that seemed to bleed from her pores like ink.

“Ash has been clawing to get out since you spoke.” And that’s when it happened. His green eyes started to bleed into crimson. Not just glowing—but alive. Alive with something ancient and wild. I could feel the shift in him like a pressure change, like thunder crawling beneath the skin of the sky. He closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to hold something back. When he opened them again, the green was gone entirely. The voice that came from him wasn’t quite Darius’s. “Call me Ash,” he said. His voice was deeper, more guttural. Still familiar, but older—sharper around the edges.

There, barely visible in the blue light, stood a figure dressed in a dark cloak. Motionless. Watching. Marcus immediately raised his pistol. “Show yourself.” The figure didn’t move. Instead, a familiar voice echoed through the chamber. “You’ve come farther than I expected.” Claire’s expression hardened. “The Raven.” The cloaked figure inclined his head. “You’ve been chasing the wrong journal.” Amelia frowned. “You stole Nathaniel Ashcroft’s confession.” “I borrowed it.” “Why?” The Raven took one slow step into the light. His face remained hidden beneath a smooth black mask shaped like the head of a raven.

“…we wouldn’t be talking.” ⸻ Alessio descended the front steps alone. Every guard tried to follow. He lifted one hand. They stopped instantly. The rain soaked through his black overcoat as he came to a halt only a few meters from the stranger. “You crossed my gates.” His voice remained steady. “You attacked my family.” “You murdered my priest.” He paused. “Now tell me your name.” The older man removed one glove. Extended his hand. “Asher Volkov.” “The First Chairman of the Black Council.”

When his eyes opened. They were no longer gray. Black. Completely black. No whites. No pupils. Only darkness. A collective gasp swept through the camp. Several soldiers stumbled backward. One of the horses screamed and tore free from its tether. Even Astrid froze. For the first time since any of them had met her, uncertainty flickered across her face. Cassian's lips parted. When he spoke, the voice that emerged wasn't entirely his own. It was deeper. Older. As though another speaker stood just behind him, using his throat to form the words.

A few hours later, his phone started ringing, with closed eyes he picked it up and spoke, " Hello..." "Oh my God! Your voice sounds... rusty." Clara spoke from the other side of the phone. "I thought you were going to say sexy..." he yawned, eyes still closed. "Who are you by the way?" he asked. "It's Clara from BB," she replied. "What is it, Clara?" he asked leaning back on the bed. "Okay, listen to me very carefully. Keep your eyes and ears open," she said. Ashton opened his eyes and came back on his senses.

I spoke to the sky as though it were a person. I closed my eyes to recite the black magic spell to summon the Brakoon demon “Akkrisis! Traas traas, helmott, ek astraa rohek, kiironn, draa iksss straataa...! A dying son of Arakis has summon you for help!”

Chaos took care to close his eyes forever, put his hands on his chest over the wound (there was no pearl) and for a long time couldn’t find the words of farewell. “You would never have left Imbra, you would never have resigned from your post, as Forky did. We served honestly, fulfilled my father's wishes so that he would achieve his goal, but now it's just me and the Aether. I will try to find out who did this to you and our brethren, and you... be reborn in a new form.” The newt covered Geras's face and head with a leaf, tightened the knots and, under the cover of darkened waters, went to the border.

I put the phone on speaker and set it on the coffee table in front of us. “Go ahead, Xavier. We’re ready.” “Alright, Alpha Zak. I’m handing you to Alpha Gael now.” There are a few seconds of jostling and then a deeper voice with a heavy Spanish accent begins to speak. “Hello, Alpha Zak, this is Alpha Gael Guia. You are there with your mates, correct?” “Hello Alpha Gael. Yes, my mates are here. I’m so glad that you called.” “Have you had your meeting with the Blue Crescent Pack yet?”