Black Knights Coursing Novels & Stories

(BLACK KNIGHTS) “NOW, now, now. Who could that be?” Beatrice asks, giggling and still dancing under the shade of the blood red moon. Thinking, no, planning her next move while she is weighing the facts, the significance and darkness of the characters of this world and book will benefit her. The perfect two knights that she needed. The rightful once to own the black title. “Of course!” she laughs, coming with the conclusion and choosing the ones that she needed to be her pieces. “Let’s have that person, shall we?”

He waived his hand for them to follow him back into the square the battle began in. Christopher waived his hand toward the square, his face straight. "Your friends for some reason found it important to try killing me." He said shrugging his shoulders Every Knight, every mercenary lay lifeless on the ground, The members of The Black Guard had already shed the clothing they had wore over their armor and all were in their Black Armor with The Black Guard crest on them. The moment Andrea and the others entered the square all eyes were on them, most of them filled with hatred. They all were made aware of her being Christopher's sister and that she wasn't to be harmed, but there was still many who

Sir Gert said, after he finished his second tankard. “Yes.” Sir Tert said, after he finished his third tankard. “You're gonna lose.” “I don't think so.” “We will see.” The knights divided into two groups. The first one group was with Sir Tert and Sir Gert. The second one strayed at the tables at were served. “You have heard about the bounty?” one of the knights said. “What bounty?” Olgierd said. “On that blasted wolf.” “Tell me, more.” “They been hunting that wolf for years. Nobody, ever caught him. They say that he has at least a hundred scars. ”

he responded, his words carrying a sense of respectful concern. "Tsk. Shit..." That was a problem. The elite knights, clandestinely dedicated to the service of every lycan prince, posed a challenge that couldn't be taken lightly. Their exceptional skills allowed them to swiftly identify and neutralize any potential threat. Once their attention was drawn to something awry, the perpetrator's fate was sealed—hunted down relentlessly until they met their demise and were laid to rest on the unforgiving earth.

Morgan and the Blades dragged the bodies of the assassins they intercepted on the road, which they presented to the public. "See the sigils they bear!" the Inquisitor said, showing the insignia of the dead assassins before the crowd. He mentioned some families, such as Blackstone, a Greymound knight missing in the Keep many weeks ago, and the knight who shocked William, Berg, and John, a Frosthold knight. A Frosthold knight as an assassin? The boys and Berg know this is impossible and far from the truth. Berg yelled and flared in anger. "Show us the bodies!" Other knights followed him, demanding to see the bodies to confirm their suspicion.

They were all tangled together, the moves were too swift to be caught by gunshots, he was constantly aiming there, he couldn’t take his aim due to the swift dueling of the black and whites of the warriors. The black knights were way more skilled, they seemed to be some knights of a professionally trained army, one could tell from the black shiny horses covered with steel armors, so were the knights, one could tell that they were trained for the purpose of protection. No part of their body was unprotected by the armor, they had their defense unreachable. They were slowly taking over the battlefield and their skill was beating down the white stallions slowly. She couldn’t appreciate from the d

Their horses marched through the carnage, unmindful of the horrors that were happening around them. The Black Knight clad in armor that had a dragon face helmet with two huge fins like horns on the ear side was leading the group. Looking at his right palm, he winced in a grin under his helmet, still feeling the tingling sensation on it; glowing purple veins kept pulsating along with each struck of pain as he tried to keep it steady. “My lord, my lord!” The voice of the man on the left side echoed as he tried to keep phase with the one leading them.

Behind us, the sound of that silver horn was still shaking the trees, a long, mournful note that felt like a funeral march. "They're gaining," Rowan gasped. He was stumbling behind us, his face white as a sheet, his glasses lopsided. He was clutching that charred scrap of the map like his life depended on it...and it did. "I can hear the horses. Those aren't normal horses, Killian. They're moving too fast." "I know," Killian growled. He stopped for a split second, his head turning toward the ridge. His nostrils flared, his eyes turning that hot, dangerous gold. "The First Knight. He’s not here to talk. He’s here to harvest."

The dragon seemed to be alive, wandering in the sky and being full of evil blood aura. The banner was held by a young knight with full black and light armor. Behind this burly knight, a cavalry troop of thirty or more came with roaring up, like a black evil wind was blowing between the white sky and the earth with great speed, and in the thunder of hooves, the group of knights showed up under the ice-crystal walls of Valley Village soon. As from a closer distance, the ferocity of these knights could be seen. Everyone's black armor was stained with blood. All big horses were black-haired. Under the horsehead were hanging several human heads and they were frozen stiff. Panic-struck expressions