Novel & Cerita Carapace Centurion

—automated husks of armor fueled by residual mana—were still programmed for one task: termination. Four Sentinels, towering seven-foot constructs of blackened steel, detached themselves from the walls. They didn't breathe, and they didn't hesitate. The first swung a massive flail that pulverized the stone where Victor’s head had been a millisecond prior. Victor slid between the construct’s legs, his movement a fluid, desperate grace born of a hundred and eighty chapters of survival. He didn't aim for the chest plate. He aimed for the "Joint-Core," the glowing blue crystal at the back of the knee.

"And bring up the structural schematics for the High Spires Central Coliseum." Minutes later, Agnes stood before a massive, floating holographic tactical table in the center of the citadel’s command hub. The blue light cast sharp, angular shadows across her pale face, reflecting off the uncut silver moonstone of her fate-ring. Floating before her was a detailed three-dimensional rendering of the Central Coliseum—a soaring, seventy-thousand-seat athletic cathedral located in the heart of Archon Malakor’s corporate territory.

Fuck, I can't believe I just thought about that so casually without reacting in any way. Getting up, I look at my reflection in the mirror. The silver metallic chainmail dress I picked has a cowl neck, bare back, and a high-side slit. Never mind that it stops a few inches right above my knees. If someone pulls the string tied at the back of my neck, it'll slide right off my body, leaving me in only a thong. I'm hoping Federico will do exactly that before the end of the night. "Okay, baby girl. Time for bed. You have school tomorrow"

So plain it almost seems like it’s on purpose. Behind them is a centimare. The massive myriapod’s eyes gleam in the sun, hundreds of pointed legs pacing as it resists the urge to crawl underneath the ground. Its pincers click together in irritation—the noise from earlier. At least a half-dozen carts and tents are attached to the back of its long body, creating a giant, living caravan. “Well, nice to see one of your types being reasonable, for once.” The woman arches an eyebrow.

Even the warhorse had jet black armour covering the entirety of their body. Undoubtedly, their humanoid form was odd. It strangely transformed them into humans and horses. [Demonic Armoured Centaur - A-rank 2nd circle] HP- 3000 Def - 2400 ATK - 450 Speed - 89 Mana- 300 [Aura of the Knight, Indomitable Physique, Battle Formation, War Cry. Advanced Weapons Expertise] It was incredible. The stats and skills were both incredible. Advanced weapon mastery was a skill that allowed the centaurs to master four weapons.

At the far end of the table, Chimera recognized Rage's men. They stood out like sore thumbs, what with their bare chests and broad shoulders. Their battle scars were vivid in the myriad of lights set around in strategic corners of the clearing. Their hair was plaited and adorned with bones. They stood and bowed as Chimera got closer. He gave them a curt nod, but as he wanted to say more, one of the Centaur women led him to an empty seat directly beside Chini. Behind the table, Centurions in their droves, cheered as soon as they set eyes on him. He wove at them and gave them a genuine smile right before he sat down.

A beast who had been alive for a thousand-year finally perished in the hands of Master Magaera. Yet, nobody was paying any attention to the beast that they had fought so hard to protect or kill. Everybody's attention was on the inner core, floating mid-air, it drifts around as if it was alive. The inner core of the ancient poisonous centipede, a rare treasure that could not be found anywhere. Master Magaera, did not even look at the floating inner core, with his standing in the Godly Region, there was no need for him to fight over an inner core

“Cover your nose, Tempest. Goddess, I don’t think it’s healthy to be in such a closed space…” “No, wait, Archer!” I fought him when he tried to push me aside. “It’s a little farther in. I need to get there…” “Tempest, NO!” He reached for my arm, but I slipped past him and almost ran to the spot I wanted. Right in front of me rose a solid carapace so black it could’ve been obsidian. Almost three meters. Concave. Sharp. Dangerous. Worse, the black was smeared with a reddish slime clinging to it.