Broken Knight の小説・ストーリー

Walking up to me, he looked down and said, “Don’t lie, princess. But don’t fall for me either...” My heart jolted in my chest and I asked in a whisper, “Why?” “Because I’ll break your heart. I’m good at breaking things.” He replied like he was confessing a sin. I stood up too and met his steady, serious gaze with my own. “I am already broken, Cole. Don’t you think it would be hard to break me again.” He shook his head. “Violet...” I stepped closer, cupped his cheek and stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him. I said, “Princess... You call me that. You should start calling me a broken princess. Your Broken Princess.”

Bone Knight Level: 150 Health: 13000 Mana: 1500/1500 Attack: 400 Defense: 300 Speed: 45 [Skills: Bone Wall, Soul Siphon, Bone Storm, Death's Embrace: (Passive) Mortifer's presence weakens enemies, reducing their attack and defence by 10%. Improved Bone Armor, Improved Bone Shield, Improved Bone Spear, Undead Fortitude, Bone Wall, Bone Prison, Command Undead, Summon BoneStalker] [Buffs: Unbreakable Will: Immune to fear and charm effects.]

I asked calmly, my voice betraying no inflection whatsoever. His eyes went wide again and he made haste to add another tidbit he thought I might consider important. “The breaker. The sacrifice they were to make would have helped them identify the breaker and bring her into the fold. She is the final piece of the puzzle. Without her, the final phase cannot begin.” Turns out he was right. I gazed at him quietly, my eyes expressionless. Still, Arthur flinched almost imperceptibly. Even in my contemplative mood, it appears Mr. Braille still finds me unnerving.

the younger man chuckled triumphantly, looking down at the piece he just moved. On the farthest corner of the board was the Black Glass Knight, a mighty cavalier riding his horse. He was an eerie, silent chess piece holding a sword in the air. Despite being delicately carved from black glass, his personality shone through with every strong corner and edge he had. He was a soundless beast, ferocious, and ready to kill as he cornered the most important piece in the game, the White King. "Doesn't he remind you of someone?" The younger man lifted the knight one last time. Then, without any ado, he tipped the White King off the board using it. That made the majestic King fall helplessly on the fl

My Grandma died some few years ago but not after telling me everything I have to know, not after leaving a great burden on my shoulders. It was after her death that I decided to relocate. Thea tried all her best to let me stay but I told her I had to leave for my own good. I know that it is bad and very coward of me to always relocate when I am betrayed. I know I should learn to face my demons but what can a broken person really do? What good can ever come out of a broken Pieces of heart? Thea even insisted to follow me here too but I immediately turned her down and explained things clearly to her and she eventually understood.

Thank you again for sticking with me and reading; Marked, Broken and Carrying his Heir.

a clear sound, is actually fractured. This halberd that fought with him in the four directions of blood, the halberd that followed him for a thousand years, the halberd that followed him to be suppressed for a thousand years, finally broke at this moment, broke into four pieces, the middle two pieces fell downward powerlessly.

“That’s why it feels like I’m tearing apart.” Declan’s voice softened. “You’re not tearing apart. You’re waking up.” I looked at him. “I didn’t get to choose when.” “You get to choose what happens next,” he replied. I took a shaky breath. “Can it be broken.” Raven answered quietly. “Yes.” Rider leaned forward immediately. “Then we do it.” “No,” Raven said. “You can’t.” “What do you mean we can’t,” Rider snapped. “It cannot be broken by the brothers,” Raven replied. “It has to be broken by her.”

Bone cracked. The greatblade slipped. Kaelen seized the moment. With a snarl, he drove his sword straight through the knight’s chest, shoving until the tip burst from the back. Light exploded. The runes on the blade shattered, energy shrieking as it ripped free of the armor. The knight convulsed, voice breaking into a howl that wasn’t human. The soldiers behind it faltered, some dropping weapons in terror. The knight reached for Kaelen even as it crumbled. Its helm split, revealing eyes like dying stars.

“You as the problem. You are the punchline. You as the girl are too much and not enough all at once.” Static crawled over the neon city below. Buildings bent inward like they were listening. I could feel it—lines of system logic trying to reassert the old story: KEY AUTHOR = BROKEN GIRL WHOSE ART DOESN’T MATTER. GAME = PROVING GROUND. PAIN = PUNISHMENT / LESSON. Define her there again, and the rest of the rewrite would just be decoration. “Enough,” Corvin snarled. He moved before I could stop him, boots biting into the tilting stone as he charged toward the base of the castle wall. His sword came up, point angled at the balcony.