Novelas y relatos de Blood Blockade Battlefront Manga

Suddenly I felt like I woke up from a long, deep, dark sleep, I opened my eyes slowly, I could see Elvin sitting close to me, he wasn’t looking at me but his hand was still holding my cold hands, I could see him from the corner of my eyes. My body was still store and it was cold, I felt like I was freezing, my legs were freezing but head was burning at the same time, I felt this excruciating pain in my mouth, I was in so much pain it was killing me, I knew this was inevitable, I knew this was supposed to happen sooner or later and that was the reason I came prepared today in this Battle.

Actually, I have no memory of us solving one thing or anything, so of course it was easy to forget. “Your current score is two wins each. Right now, it's a draw." Mr. Lane rubs his palms with lotion he squeezes out of a bottle on his desk. "Mm-hmm, a close contest is what makes a battle manga! Personally, I'm expecting Miles's death to lead to Charlotte's awakening.” Why am I dying in this plot? Not that I hate the idea or anything. In fact, I love the concept.. "Um, you said we each won two, but we haven't really fixed anything. And only 3 people came to ask us for help." I tell him.

Chapter 16: The Heart of the War The hangar had become a warzone. Concrete pillars splintered into jagged shards, and fires flickered across broken walls. Smoke and dust filled the air, making it difficult to breathe. The roar of monsters echoed endlessly, mingling with gunfire, screams, and the violent crackle of energy clashing across the battlefield. But Ethan moved forward, undeterred. Silver light radiated from his eyes, a storm of pure Alpha King power that no creature dared to challenge.

The crack of bodies meeting, the grunt of impact, the fast ugly sounds of a real fight, nothing clean about any of it. Then the dark magic flares. Purple-black light bursts outward in a wave and three of our warriors go down like they've been hit by something invisible. One doesn't get up. The second tries and can't. The third stays down and doesn't move again. "Hold the line!" I'm already running. Through the bond: *East flank holding.* *West engaging. Center is chaos. Keep Sage and Oliver safe.* I'm already looking for Morgana. She's looking for me.

Something in my chest that has been in one position for eleven days shifts. "Vienna reported in this morning." He crosses to my desk. Sets down a single printed page with the deliberate care of someone who has thought carefully about how to deliver something. "Prague went dark yesterday. Lisbon haven't responded to three separate messages." He pauses. His voice doesn't change — he's too good for that — but something behind his eyes does. "The degradation pattern is consistent across all five bloodlines. Starts eleven days ago. Simultaneously." Another pause. "To the hour."

His eyes flashed a pitch-black amber, filled with pure protective madness. With supernatural, terrifying speed, Ethan snatched two of the warriors by their throats, his huge claws clamping down before he ruthlessly tore them completely apart mid-air in a horrific shower of blood. The remaining attackers tried to scramble backward into the trenches in paralyzed terror, but Ethan was an unchained demon. He lunged forward into the mud, snapping limbs, crushing skulls, and painting the entire battlefield trenches in a thick layer of enemy blood to shield my space. The war had officially begun, and the front lines were completely drowning in crimson.

Like there had never been a soul there to begin with. I’d already lost count of how many we had killed. Dozens, maybe, but there were still hundreds more. And their ruby weapons flashed through the air with preternatural speed, strength, among other abilities that no man or woman should have been capable of. I saw some kind of mage say a few words, ruby flashing in a circlet on her head, and then one of my warriors crumpled to the ground and began bleeding from his eyes. “We have to retreat!” my Beta shouted over the din. He was sporting a large gash across his forehead that was dripping blood into his eyes. “Now!”

I tried to sleep after staying up for a while, but within minutes, the nightmare came. Blood. It was everywhere. The battlefield stretched endlessly, a wasteland of bodies and mangled corpses. The stench of death filled everywhere, and in the distance, I could hear the echoes of battle—clashing steel and screams. Then I saw him. Magnus. He was standing inside the chaos, his black armor stained red, his golden eyes burning with fury. He fought, cutting down enemy after enemy. But the rebels kept coming. No matter how many he killed, more surged forward, surrounding him.

I stepped forward, Dresden at my side, and every nerve in my body screamed at me to strike, to fight, to claim what was mine. “You will not take me,” I said, voice strong, unwavering. “You will not harm my pack. And you will never control what is mine. Not now. Not ever.” The figure’s eyes flickered, calculating, and then… a smirk. “So be it, Mara. Let the bloodline rise. Let the reckoning begin.” And with that, they vanished, leaving the courtyard in chaos, but the message clear: the battle was only beginning. The shadows were rising, the enemies were gathering, and the true test of my power—and my bond with Dresden—had yet to come.

We were in this together. As we approached the battlefield, I took in the scene in an instant. Mira was on her knees, blood flowing from a gash across her forehead. A Shadow Cult warrior stood over her, his dagger raised. I didn’t think. I threw my blade. Before the warrior could deliver the last blow, it pierced the air and sank deeply into his chest. He gasped and stumbled, then collapsed on the ground, dead. Mira looked at me with wide eyes. She felt a wave of relief, but there was no time to rejoice.