Chrono Crusade Chrono Novels & Stories

The men escaping the shadows began to cry and charge some with swords and maces others wielding magic, their hands glowing different colours. Gravland fired quickly watching the enemies fall to the ground whilst nocking his next arrow picking his next target, Krona blocked a blow from one COG (cults organisations and groups) to the left of him and slashed another to the right, before the enemy to the left of Krona could recover from hitting the shield, Lengo stuck her two blades through his shoulders The COG members fell from all directions until they heard a click from Terribor’s fingers; they drew back into the shadows of the corners of the room.

“Today, that transparency is under attack by the Sovereign State of Xylos. They are not fighting for profit; they are fighting for the right to maintain their own darkness. Their weapon—the Chronos Echo—is designed to make you doubt your history, your contracts, and your future.” She revealed the SSX’s intent without compromising the SLP’s technical integrity. She promised a defense that would be absolute. The broadcast was a success—it shifted public fear toward measured resolve, but it also painted a massive target on The Dawn Project. With the Chronos Engine Blueprints secured, Lena began the analysis. Her conclusion was devastating:

Flames capable of burning concepts sprouted from everywhere and they closed on Rogue, who palmed the ground releasing a transmutation circle, the circle served as a Medium that brought the universe atop of him and Chronos, but to his bewilderment, Chronos merely caught it and crushed it into a sphere which he hurled at Rogue. The sphere smashed right on Rogue who got singed by the flames, losing one of his six limbs. Play time was over, Rogue channeled the power of all the deities trapped into one attack, and he glowed brightly. For a brief moment, Metapower nullification was evoked, incapacitating every power reducing Chronos to a human, He launched head first with trinity and tore through

Kronos smiled, nodded to the guard for him to open the gate, and then took off into the air. Kronos didn't get back until that evening. He flew through the air, disappointed with how easy the mission had been. Considering it had come from the dragon queen, he has been expecting more. The bandits hadn’t even put up much of a fight. To combat his disappointment he had had a few drinks at a local tavern. He opened his left hand and stared at a small black statuette of a black timberwolf he had snagged for Icarus. That boy loves his figurines, and I know he doesn't have this for his collection. His fifth winter will be here in a few moon cycles, I’ll give it to him then.

If they wanted to take out Giovanni, then they were more dangerous than he thought. “The scorpione Nero which means the black scorpion in English is an ancient Italian cult founded some centuries ago by a group of elite Italian scientists, administrators, and other men of high intellectual standards. They believe greatly in science and astrology.” She explained. “Wow! Sounds really powerful,” he exclaimed. “Ya. Many years ago, they were declared dangerous and the church labeled them an enemy. Some of their members were killed and they fled into secrecy. They haven't made a public appearance for many decades, so they were thought to have been disbanded.” Cielo added.

Feathers fell to the ground as the injured crow made its way through the broken window. Bones snap and a sickening growl is heard as the crow lands shifting into the former corpse of a man. Limping to the pedestal the man finally falls to his knees coughing up blood. "50 long years it's been. 50 years! You come here after 50 years to cough blood at my feet?" The deep husky voice laced with malice throws at his obviously unworthy servant.

Trix refused to roll her eyes at the obvious displeasure his voice held. Rexus was Sapphire born and despised Crimsons. More importantly he was a cold blooded killer, who took pride in his kill. The Crimson Princess and a few Crimson Knights would surely boost his fame and the stench of fear that would go well with his name. He gently took the princess’s soft hand in his rugged palms and kissed it. Her personal guards tensed, their leather coated hands on the hilt of their swords. Trix watch the exchange with curiosity, in a strange way wishing that they would start a fight. Her wish came through when Rexus slipped a ring from the princess’s hand and the sound of metal scraping against metal

Said Amara joining their hands together. After a few days. It had been some days after that incident and Amara life was going perfectly fine as she describes it. She would clean the house and prepare breakfast early morning and reach school on time and after school she would Go to work. Her working schedules were just perfect. She would work till 3pm to 7pm and reach home just before her parents arrive. She was hiding the fact that she worked from her parents. She was happy at what life was giving her but only one thing... one thing was there Troubling her every single day. "THE ROSE" Yes the rose. Every single day Amara would receive a Yellow rose and a note that said "SORRY -Adrian" inside

And who is he? But she only knew one thing. Things will never turn back to normal once again. As she was already exposed as Crimson Blade. Her hours living as normal one is already limited. She can never escape her past. Once you enter this hell world, the thing called dark organization. You can't ever go out. You can't leave. You become its lifetime prisoner. “Then, you really are the Crim—!” holding his bleeding shoulder, Zodia rolled on the ground coughing. Zitrey fiercely kicked him, not wanting him to say and not wanting Nathan and Nikka to hear, her old hated name.

The sky-cycle’s twin engines roared beneath them as Vera and Lucien raced from the smoldering ruins of Skyforge Citadel. Dawn’s first pale light bled through lingering smoke, but the halo of the Blood Moon still glowed crimson on the horizon. Lucien guided the cycle down the battered stone ramp, his talons of metal and bone gripping the throttle’s edge. Vera leaned forward, clutching the obsidian fang at her waist, dream-silk thread still twined around her throat scar.