Asura Kishin Novels & Stories

"How's it?" He abandoned the food and approached me. "What the fuck are you doing?" "I love fireworks!" I yelled again after facing my front and he laughed as I continued to yell out random stuff that I liked and hated. "Mrs. Ashton needs to get laid or else her horrible temper will get worse!" "Stop that, your message might reach her." Higan said with an amused smile. I looked at him. "It should. Her husband should toughen his game." We both laughed hard at this and when we calmed down, I said, "Say something."

’ Asher snorted. I ended the mind-link as Asher came into view. He had shifted into his wolf, a large black beast that plowed through Vampire and Werewolf alike. Even with his large size, he moved with incredible speed and accuracy. Blood coated some of the other wolves' coats, yet none ceased their fighting. It seemed the Vampire King had deployed very little of his men on this attack, and used Luna Freya’s remaining men as the brunt force of the attack.

He shook his head as if to try to physically knock the unwelcome thoughts out of his brain. Gathering his emotions more tightly under control, he squared his shoulders and stood tall, pointing an accusing finger at the dark-haired witch. "You will not destroy me! I am Brandur of Clan Sköll, known as The Destroyer for a reason!" The woman sighed heavily, and he thought he saw her roll her eyes. "Freya help me," Astrid murmured, raising her hands in a supplicating gesture toward the skies. "Once again, Brandur of Clan Sköll, I am not here to harm you. You are far too important for that."

A few minutes later, the side door opened and I saw Azrik enter alone, he looked at Gáta who, before he could say anything, disappeared in a small purplish-green cloud. Seeing that color and feeling that pressure, I know that Gáta is involved with the curse, somehow she manages to pull energy from the Mother of Monsters. Khalid had said that the name for people involved in the cult of the Ancient Gods was “Cultists” and Gáta is definitely one of those people. The dragon's aura spread like fire spreading through a dry forest, but Hélios' aura protected me from the damage it could cause, especially since I am not at full strength.

The mansion's imposing facade loomed ahead, and Samuel led the way up the steps, his heart pounding in his chest. A knock echoed through the air as Samuel's knuckles rapped on the door. It swung open to reveal Horas Jota, a tall figure with an air of confidence. His eyes flicked over Samuel and his companions, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Samuel, always seeking adventure, huh?" Samuel's lips curved into a half-smile, his nervousness mingling with a sense of determination. "Horas, this is Whizz and Liya." Horas nodded, his eyes assessing each of them. "Come in," he gestured, stepping back to allow them inside.

“It is death, Alpha Alaric. Nothing but death. An all consuming, void like death.” My jaw clenched and suddenly a lump appeared on my throat. She continued, “The name Asura is not its true or given name. It is a moniker that stemmed from an ancient language meaning Demon. This being is said to be centuries old, perhaps even older. But its body and wolf bloodline is unknown.” “Wolf bloodline?” I asked. “It was once one of us?” “It was once wolfkin, yes. But it no longer is. Or rather, should no longer be. However, many tales in the past, from a long time ago, depicted Asura as a demonic wolf. Or being able to shift into one.”

The Ashura was a humanoid magical beast with three heads and six arms. The Three forms of the Ashura, as a rank 4 technique, could inherently improve the martial art of a cultivator multiplying her attacks till they reached the number of arms of the Ashura. Each form, on the other hand, had more amazing effects. The First form could increase the number of attacks by a large amount, creating material after-images through the "Breath" of the cultivator. However, fighting in that way comported a heavy burden on the cultivator's mind.

I want him to look me in the eye and command his white smoke to eat him, and immediately his white smoke attacks him. “Aahhhh!!!” I heard him shouting. He tried to fight back but he can’t fight anymore, because it is his smoke attacking him that makes him weak. Not me. I know it is painful for him to be attacked by his energy, but I have no choice. He is unstoppable, that is why he needed to be stopped, and that is what I am doing. I made him look at me because I want him to see that it is not an illusion like what he did. It is real, his white smoke is attacking him for real, ready to kill him and little by little his light is shutting down and he is getting weak. I am absorbing his energy.

The force of the thunderous blows caused massive waves over the whole region. Both sides' eardrums were blown by the impact of the roaring shockwave. Everyone from the clans, including Agenor, had to take a step back from the clash. Their destructive rhythm enraged the senses of everyone nearby. From the intensity of the shockwave, it almost seemed like two elephants clashed into another. However, the dust settled and they all witnessed two fists crashed against one another. Agenor immediately recognised the guys on the opposite side by his flashy medieval silver armor. The guy who violently rushed through the crowd was no other than Varun Bakashi of the Phoenix Gods.

A young man stepped out, assisted by two servants, dressed in embroidered gold brocade and wearing a jeweled circlet. I'd recognize that face anywhere—even if it turned to ash. It was Matthew, my brother, who was supposed to be dead for over a year. The brother I'd given my life to atone for. He was back. Alive. Radiant. Dressed like a true prince of nobility. I hung there in the air, struck dumb as if by a bolt of lightning. My ghost trembled on the verge of unraveling.