Charli Inquisitormaster Novels & Stories

The pupils are blown wide, swallowing the iris. He opens his mouth. The voice that comes out sounds mechanical. "I, Marcus of Silverwood..." The shadows in the room lunge forward, detaching themselves from the walls, circling the dais like sharks smelling blood. "...Master of the Northern Gate..." "Stop him!" Charlie screams. She lunges. She ignores the guard, ignores the gun pressed to her back. She throws herself forward, snapping the zip-tie on her wrist with a sickening pop of dislocated bone.

If they were lucky, their masters only forced them to wear masks for the rest of their lives. The captured males had been tortured—mostly for the thrill of it, if she understood the text correctly. Any useful information had been obtained by “the suggestive power of the charmer herself” whatever that meant. Useful information usually consisted of where to find and annihilate any remaining Haunt, women and children included. Sometimes the captured one was “enspelled” and forced to lead the way to the others. As a result, the Haunt took to assassinating any known charmers, and they were notoriously successful. There were long lists of charmer kills and their assassins. Such stalkers were treat

Chandler’s voice sounded over the other end of the line as he asked, “Young Master Wade, I wonder how things are going on your end? Have you caught Falco Xanthos yet?” Charlie smiled indifferently and said, “I’m thankful that you’re worried and concerned about this matter. I’ve not found Falco Xanthos yet, and I’m currently looking for a breakthrough from someone else.” As soon as Chandler heard this, he could not help but ask, “Young Master Wade, the someone else that you are talking about should be Carvalho Mason, right?” “Yes.” Charlie said, “It’s him.” At this time, Carvalho instantly had a shocked and horrified expression on his face.

he said in a quiet voice that was almost a whisper. “Are you experienced in cars?” Ivote asked. Charlie stopped for a second before answering. “Y-yes” he stuttered. “Destroy the brakes of his most used car” Ivote said on the other line before hanging up without waiting for Charlie’s reply. Charlie's lips trembled as he gasps. ‘They want to kill Master!’ he said in his mind as he realizes why they needed him as a spy. ‘I-I don’t think I’d be able to do this. I can’t’ kill someone!’ he thought while slowly opening the door of the bathroom.

“He’s… unusual. But he gets it. Dreams, guardians, prophecies—this is his wheelhouse. Just don’t ask him to babysit. He’s allergic to most of your lot.” By evening, the forest was draped in gold and shadow. Serenya sat quietly near Cheyenne and Gunner, the adrenaline from her final training still simmering under her skin. A knock echoed through the cabin. “Evening!” Charlie’s mischievous voice carried inside. “Hope you’re ready for some… mental gymnastics.” Cheyenne opened the door. “Charlie. You said you knew a guy. Who’s your guy?” Charlie grinned, stepping aside to reveal a tall, lean man with piercing gray eyes and an aura that thrummed like unspent lightning. “This is Malrik. Dream inte

With your help, I'll be able to return to my family in glory. Malcolm stepped down from the bed and smiled. "Don't worry. You've provided me with countless resources over the years, especially young women, for my cultivation. I'll repay this favor." Harvey said, "Mr. Manson, I wouldn't trouble you under normal circumstances, but I have a bit of an issue right now." "Oh? Charlie is a master now, and I didn't think there would be any trouble he couldn't handle." "Yes, but Charlie just called. He's been beaten and needs me to go over. I suspect the opponent might be a great grandmaster, so I'm here to plead for your assistance."

Unbeknownst to her, her timid, animal-like presence, skittish, wide-eyed, and radiating raw fragility had caught the unwavering attention of the Head Master. He stood at the far end of the bar, a towering figure exuding authority in a tailored black shirt that hugged his broad, muscular shoulders, his expression perpetually unreadable behind a neatly trimmed beard that added to his enigmatic allure. Known simply as "The Owner" or "Head Master" to the bar's elite clientele, he was a legend in this underground world—ruthless in his control, yet revered for his unwavering fairness and deep understanding of the human psyche.

(Jax’s POV) They taped off the ruins with bright yellow plastic, useless as hell, like that could contain madness. Lucian’s mansion, nothing but charred skeleton walls and a smoke-stained foundation. Our Grand Wizard’s lair was reduced to wreckage. Good. He deserved worse. “No remains,” the investigator reported. “Not human. Not animal.” I suspected as much. Sophie was alive. Back with him. Wolf mutt. Pretender. Mate. My knuckles burned to hit something.

My power is getting weaker with age and I am not as sharp as before. I looked at the woman who saved me earlier. My body glowed earlier and I think it's due to her power. She is a charmer, she gives luck. But regular charmers only give blessing. She is a special one and I am sure of that. I have lived for a hundred years in this world and I still haven't seen a charmer who can give both luck and strength to others. My conscience is eating me, I haven't been like this before. It is telling me to save this wounded girl. I was somehow captured by her beauty.

Charles concluded with a slight blemish. According to the orders of her boss Charla couldn't leave the room to do the required work. She stood rooted to the ground twiddling with her fingers. Charles raised his eyes to Charla in command. His orbs owned a suspicious look. "Sir I know I'm in no position to speak this information to you and I very well know I am risking my job in this by supporting Aliza against your decision." Rising from his seat Charles pushed his hands inside his pant pockets and walked in slow raptorial steps towards Charla. His lips were plastered in a thin line intimidating her with his controlling aura. "What do you mean?" He accentuated his dominance. Charles did not l