Novel & Cerita Crimson Hunters 40k

As a Hunter, you always had to be on your toes. Situations like this happened often, and most of the time the leeches thought you were just a bystander and they planned to suck you dry. Unbeknownst to them, I was anything but. “I know you’re out there, you can come out now.” I said out loud, knowing that I didn’t have to yell for them to hear me. The 4 figures slowly approached me, two male and two female. They were all wearing solid black leather outfits that seemed to match each other and I wondered if they were soldiers.

He had been staring directly into my eyes since I sat down and I wondered how intimidating he must have thought it was. ‘’ How badly do you want Christopher Rhinehart dead?’’ He finally asked and I had to school my face to remain expressionless. He probably wanted to strike the the- enemy – of – my -enemy – is – my – friend deal with me, but vampires in general were my enemies, I didn’t have specific dislikes and I was beginning to prefer the Rhineharts to vampires who hid out in dusty buildings and sat on Cain chairs -- but then, everyone preferred the rich.

It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls. Before we did, I had stolen a glance back at Scarlet, who eyed me with unspeakable murder gleaming lustrously in her eyes. The blue hues around her irises slowly turning blood-red, making my eyes extend to impossible lengths as her grin widens dangerously. Like a warning that fucking meant she'd be coming for me. I hadn't stared at her long enough to confirm whether my mind was just playing tricks on me or not. But I know what I saw. I feel my heart thundering berserkly in my chest at the memory of her face morphing and twisting in fury, the baby blue turned blood-red eyes, and the sinis

And on his left was the witch who became their ally to finally bring down the four packs. He stood in the middle strong and unbothered by the screams of everyone. He raised his right hand and with that, opened a huge door on the far right side of the dome. With heavy steps and weak bodies, four men went out of the huge door. As they made their entrance, everyone shouted louder and more aggressive. “KILL THEM!” “CUT THEIR HEADS OFF!” The four men walked slowly and finally made it to the center facing Brody. Brody smiled in arrogance as he spits on one of the men, the Alpha of the Crimson Crest pack, Connor.

CRIMSON “Do you know the story of the bloody werewolf rogue that was killed by his alpha? Do you know about that rogue that was hated by all of his pack and all the other packs that no one wanted him at all? Are you familiar with the story, child?” an old woman asked me while giving me a serene smile on her lips.

Still, it was enough to show other creatures that we werewolves weren't someone to be messed with. We also invited the Bloody Fangs. The Bloody Fangs was a group of strongest warriors without any ties to the 3 packs. Their most well-known warrior was their leader, The Crimson Warrior, who was also the most blood-lust warrior in the whole Lupo continent. His nickname came from the crimson helmet he kept wearing as he fought. I had heard that the Crimson Warrior himself would attend my ceremony. That made me wonder if he would wear his helmet or not. After all, no one had ever seen his face.

Though I’d not disposed of my weapons, as the hallucinated image of Veronica had insisted, I had a feeling that she’d be proud of the decision I’d made instead. Sierra, Cyrus, and I had formed a new district of hunters. We were smaller in size, with less resources, less members, and less weapons, but each of us believed that, together, we could protect Seafall and beyond. And, though we had left the other hunters behind, Sierra still met with them regularly to discuss (what they called) “matters of note.” Such matters would never be shared with Cyrus or I – no vampire nor ex-member would ever be deemed worthy – but they did not need to know that Sierra divulged every gory detail to us the se

“Black Crimson has an extremely distinctive style. If you have someone else paint for him, it’s just going to be written off as a fake.” “No,” Hayden assured him. “It’s not.” When everyone merely frowned, confused, I groaned and rolled my eyes, willing him not to stick out his own neck or admit anything stupid. “No way,” I told him, slashing out a hand. “I’m not down with that plan.” But he didn’t have to say anything. Because Camille suddenly gasped. “Oh my God,” she murmured, gaping between me and Hayden with sudden realization. “Black Crimson isn’t just one person. You guys are like the Brothers Hildebrandt.” She spun to address my brother. “Aren’t you?”

Through the clearing dust, two figures came charging back into the canyon at terrifying speed. Lysander arrived first, blurring through the lingering smoke like a lethal specter. His twin shadow blades sliced through the air, instantly executing three mutated beasts that were crawling toward Kaelor’s bleeding body. Behind him, the main army of the Crimson Dominion—four thousand heavy legionnaires— burst into the valley, their war horns echoing like thunder off the stone walls.

“The Blood Oath lives in him now. He’s ours.” Aria stepped in front of Kael, her claws flaring. “Touch him, and you die.” The Daughter laughed, sharp and cold. “You can’t stop the Crimson Sovereign. He’s already here.” The air grew heavy, the crimson light pulsing in rhythm with Aria’s heartbeat. A figure emerged from the shadows, taller than the Sovereign, its fur a deep, bloody red, its eyes burning with divine malice. The Crimson Sovereign. Its presence crushed the air, forcing the pack to their knees.