Coiling Dragon Novels & Stories

Watching Wilbur, Augheimer focused his thoughts, forming a black defensive shield around his body to prepare for Wilbur's attack. In midair, the phantom of the Four Divine Beasts, Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise, hovered above Wilbur, circling him. As their energies began to merge, the four beasts started to fuse into one. After rapidly spinning, they ultimately combined into a golden dragon.

I sat down on the chair facing the sofa and I let my eyes return to normal. “The moment the King lays eyes on Abigail he’ll want her to bond with Prince Nicu. The strongest dragon in existence is the gray dragon. The silver white dragon is next in line, then comes the violet dragon and so on. Royal Dragons have always been what is known as Russian Violet, the darkest shade. We all know the darker the shade the stronger the dragon.” “A woman born of a man with a strong dragon is desirable but the bond has always been respected.” If we were normal people Sorin would’ve been right, but we weren’t.

The muscular lines were powerfully sculpted, the stripes spaced just right, and even the texture of the fur was vividly rendered through the relief. On the right side of the staircase, the Phoenix spread its wings, tail feathers layered like burning flames. Every feather's pattern was clearly visible, and its posture was lively, as if it would take flight and sing to the heavens at any moment. The Northern Cosmic Protector was formed by a tortoise entwined with a snake. The patterns on the tortoise shell resembled a naturally formed Eight Trigrams Diagram, dense and orderly. The snake coiled on the tortoise's back, its scales glinting coldly, its gaze gloomy yet steady.

I stepped out carefully, and then walked slowly over to the Candle Dragon. It was fairly small, and a glowing, crystal-like white in colour. It was inlaid with delicate carvings, all of which looked like tribal patterns and intricate artwork. It depicted the elements: flame, wind, sea, and mountains. In its centre was a thick pillar candle. I wanted to wonder why, exactly, it was called the Candle Dragon, but I let the thought dissipate. I needed to keep my mind clear.

Lines of blood split across Andrew's body as his veins burst under the crushing weight of Dragon's Might. "Andrew!" Isabelle shouted in panic from outside. Still suspended midair, Ezekiel laughed viciously. "Andrew, today is the day you fall. Die for me!" Pain flickered across Andrew's face, yet his voice remained as calm as still water. "You celebrate too soon. There is only one true dragon in this world, and that is the Divine Dragon of Etharia. The Dragon's Cyclone, created by Mr. Sloan, originated from the Holtrien octagonal formation.

It resonated directly inside their souls—ancient, arrogant, and overwhelmingly powerful. The silver liquid in the pool began to swirl, rising into the air to form the shape of a colossal Eastern Dragon. It wasn't flesh and blood; it was a spiritual projection of pure, primordial Qi. Its whiskers drifted in the heavy air, and its eyes burned like twin suns. "A beast of the mortal dirt," the Dragon spirit sneered, looking down at Caleb and his Pack. "Stinking of void-metal and artificial fire. You dare to dirty the Dragon’s Cradle with your presence? You seek the tears of the World Tree?"

Zayla is too wired to sleep, so she stares at the ceiling and tries to remember the last time she wasn’t afraid of what would happen in the dark. She must drift off at some point, because she’s back in the palace, but it’s wrong. The walls are alive, pulsing with a heartbeat she can hear in her teeth. At the center of the grand hall: dragons, dozens of them, scales like hammered silver, like sapphires, like dusk after a thunderstorm. They’re coiled in a circle, their eyes fixed on the space between them. They begin to move, slow at first, then faster, a spiral that draws the air inward, whips it into a cyclone of magic and light. As they turn, Zayla sees the ground beneath them glow with run

The next moment, all the holes in the dragon's body shone with a green light, giving people a feeling of infinite vitality. Instantly, countless vines grew from the inside and outside of the dragon's body, twisting. They intertwined with each other. Like an endless lock, it firmly bound the giant dragon, which was struggling to get up from the ground, and then pulled it back to the ground, unable to move.

He was the deepest thinker of all, so it is natural that he never misses a point. “You are right, Dad C. The first type of dragons who produce their own power are known as ‘Imperial Dragons’. They mostly use their spirit animal’s energy which is the hardest to harness,” I answered patiently but was interrupted by Dad Valen. “Xador ?! Is he one of them ?” he asked.

Maybe that was why he was no longer with his tribe. The gigantic dragon’s head leaned forward, its snake-like neck curving majestically so one side of its eye could meet mine. Creed’s natural dark eyes with a hint of amber flickered back and forth from his dark fired ones. Only one word could describe this dragon, the same as Creed. Beautiful.