Battle B-daman Series Novels & Stories

Amy maintained a calm tone of voice while speaking firmly to the killer. “I was just curious. You don’t have to get defensive, my lovely, Asian flower.” The gunman’s voice trailed down to a growling whisper. The burly, bearded man stared across the room at Amy with ungodly thoughts seeping into his mind. “You came in here and ignored me. You won’t even tell me how you enjoyed my game. I based the game on your life experiences. I named the video game Gunmetal Mama in honor of your MMA fighting career.” The gunman showed his teeth while sneering at Amy. “I’m so flattered,” Amy spoke to the gunman through a dry tone, unleashing her sarcasm. She returned her hands to the front of her stomach whe

I replied, listening harder to where the sound of the voice was coming from. "She smells like The Beta of The Ahnalu Rah Tribe, Ethan Cross." Another voice chimed in from a different direction. Raising a brow, I shook My head knowingly, I was going to have to put up a hell of a fight. "We should take her to Buddha." A third voice piped in. Hearing the new voice join, on instinct I started to run back in the direction I came from, with not even knowing who my opponent was... I had not other choice; Either way I was totally out numbered as a half vampire.

The door closed. Angry? Did I do anything wrong? Suddenly, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down. There was a dagger in my hand. Symbols began carving on the silver blade. And somehow, somewhere, I knew what they meant. “Marfóir Deamhan,” I whispered. The meaning came to me like a memory that was never mine. My voice cracked, as I translated the words. “Demon Slayer.”

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I shot back, my voice trembling slightly with fury, “but I will never surrender to you.” With that, I lunged, throwing every ounce of my strength and determination into the attack. I swung, struck, and ducked, moving as fast as my body would allow. But it was no use. Mark’s movements were too precise, too practiced. In an instant, he had me pinned again, the world spinning as pain shot through my shoulders. My arm twisted beneath his grip, creaking unnervingly under the strain. “Ahhh—” I cried out, the sound echoing across the ground, desperate and raw. Instructor Dane appeared immediately, rushing forward to intervene, his expression hard and commanding. But Mark barely flinched, leaning cl

Then we turned slowly in the water. Ben and Bonolo stood on the pound bank, staring at us. Ben's fists were clenched, and he was shaking. In one quick movement, Bonolo whipped out her spear and held it out like a barrier against Ben. "Bonolo move before I snap your little twig in half." Bonolo tilted the spear so that the sharp metal edge was pressed hard against his neck. "Dante gets out of the water, then get back to the camp." Dante's eyes met mine and I nodded. We got out of the water, Dante kept his arm around me and Ben tried to move forward, but the spear dug into his skin.

She didn't need to be bitten by a coyote. Then Bane screamed, his grip on her arms loosening enough for her to jerk free. Dimitri pinned Bane's leg in his jaws, clamping down, sinking his teeth into the man's flesh. Adira stretched her arm out, her fingers wide as she shoved her power at Bane. No shards this time. A steady stream of blue flame shot from her fingers, hitting the larger man in the chest and hurling him up into the air and backward. He flew back five feet before his body slammed into the ground, driving his breath from his lungs.

- I said. He was silenced for a few seconds. “If I lose, I wouldn’t be able to treat you because I am already ashes.”- I said and smirked at him. “That’s impossible to happen Luna.”- He replied. I smiled at him. “Just don’t get hurt and I’ll treat you to wherever you want.”- He said and left. Damon’s POV: “Have you heard the upcoming battle in the underground?”- Bree asked. “Battle of who?”- I asked.

I watched in horror as the fight raged on, the forest echoing with pain and fury. Damon tore through them, killing without hesitation. Finally, he reached Klaus. Their battle was vicious, claws and fangs flashing in the moonlight, but Damon was stronger. In one final, violent strike, he ripped Klaus’s throat out, sending him crashing to the ground, lifeless. A few of his remaining men flee, that one bloody battle coming to an end. But did it? Damon turned, his eyes burning with madness, as he set his gaze on Asher.

I moved through it, giving orders, pulling a fallen fighter back behind the line, sending a runner for more bandages. Damon fought at my side. He was steady, efficient—no grand gestures, just the work of keeping people alive and the line holding. At one point he shoved a man off the palisade with one hand and caught a falling warrior with the other. There was no time to think about what that meant; there was only the next moment.