Azrael's Blade の小説・ストーリー

Just as I leaned forward and reached for my fork to cut out of my cake slice, I felt that familiar weight in the air. I looked up and saw Azrael was walking past the edge of the garden path, flanked by two guards. He hadn’t been heading toward us, but his eyes flicked in our direction anyway for just for a second. It was enough to catch his tight and controlled expression. His gaze lingered on Aaron, then shifted to me, unreadable. I turned back to Aaron and let my smile widen. “You should tell me about that idea you mentioned,” I said, resting my elbow on the table.

Lyra struggled, panic rising in her chest, but Jessy’s grip was unrelenting. “Jessy, please!” Lyra cried, her voice cracked as she tried to free herself. “Don’t do this!” But Jessy’s expression was woven with hatred, her eyes gleaming with a cold, merciless darkness. “It’s too late, Lyra. You’ve already lost.” In one swift motion, Jessy sent Lyra's body past the edge of the cliff. Lyra’s scream tore through the night as she fell helplessly, the wind roaring behind her ears. The world escaped around her briskly, and all she could see was the jagged rocks below, rushing up to meet her.

The taste of blood rose in my throat. "No way. I will never let your bastard humiliate my father." The moment those words left my mouth, both Stella and Hudson's expressions changed. "Who are you calling a b*stard? "Get on your knees and apologize to my Zane." Hudson looked at me with pure hatred. Not being able to give his child a proper name had always been his pain. Now it turned into rage against me. I refused. Stella stepped forward and grabbed the back of my neck.

Not knowing what had happened, he screamed and fell headfirst toward the ground. Andrew would never miss an opportunity like that, and his greatsword carried him straight up into the air. In one swift strike, he drove it clean through Azrael's body. Azrael let out an earth-shaking roar. His spear slipped from his grasp, hooked onto Andrew's sword, and dragged both of them crashing down toward the earth. "Huh?" In that instant, whether it was the powerhouses of Holtrien or the elites of the Three Empires, everyone stood there completely stunned.

Lila followed the ritual exactly — black candles, fresh blood from her palm, the ancient words spoken at midnight under a blood moon. The air grew thick and hot. The candles flared unnaturally high. Then the shadows in the room coalesced into something massive. He stepped out of the darkness like he owned it. Azrael was beautiful in the most terrifying way. Towering over seven feet tall, with obsidian skin that seemed to drink in light, glowing crimson eyes, and a muscular body carved from pure sin. Horns curved back from his head, and massive black wings were folded behind him. His presence filled the room with raw, ancient power.

Dad was somewhere nearby, ready, along with Serenya and Mama. “Step out of the shadows, Ezekiel. I’m here. Let’s end this!” Azrael snarled. My nerves were eating me alive. The people clamoring loudly faded into a distant echo as Ezekiel stepped into view. The very air chilled under his evil aura, and in his hand, he held... the stake of Draugrwood. A gasp tore from my throat. No!

⁠ The traito⁠r lun⁠ged again, this time​ wi‌th his hi⁠dden blade, arcin‌g it di⁠r​ect⁠ly​‍ toward Lyr‌a’s heart. ​ ‍Azi​el d‍idn’⁠t t⁠hi‌n​k. H‍‍e di​dn‍’t breathe. He moved. ‍ Hi​s b‍ody slam‍med into hers‌, knockin‌g her t‍o the g​ro​und just as⁠ the d‍agger buri​ed itse​‍lf de‌‌ep‍ be‌neath his rib‌​s. Lyra‌’s scre​am rip⁠ped​ th‌roug‌h​ t‍he nigh​t, raw and​ anim​‌alis⁠‍t‍ic. “AZ​I​EL!”

I so deeply loved my people. Renewed, I scurried back to the workroom, distributing sandwiches and coffee. Alex was hunched over the book, only his attention was not focused on a page, but rather the back cover. He felt carefully along the seam of the leather bound book, tracing the line where the paper met cover, as if he was looking for a weak spot. In his hand rested a small blade, and he raised it after a few moments. He stuck his tongue out slightly between his lips in concentration, his curly hair flopping down and brushing against the page as he sliced it open with surgical precision. He peeled back the canvas layer of the inner cover and sighed in relief, pulling out a piece of folde