Dragon King Greataxe Novels & Stories

The Draconic Cobra King was much bigger and stronger than the Red Dragon Snake, with Mature Draconic Cobra Kings being well over one hundred meters long. The blade Xasha and Xara made was from one of its 10ft long fangs, that they then cut in half. The teeth weren't the strongest alloy on the cobra's body, but Xasha chose it because it was like the Murder Hornet's stinger. Holes in it were a tiny being about the point of an unsharpened pencil. They were three holes in total and like the hornet's stinger it prevents mana leakage and it was completely flame resistant.

A colossal dragon throne in front. A man draped in golden robes appeared escorted by two guards clad in dazzling red armor. He had long silver hair with blue eyes. His horns on his head had a slight tint of gold to them. A humbled golden crown sat around his head resembling more a Laurel wreath than a majestic crown. The Drakon speaks.

He looked like a real dragon prince, completely unlike the little babbling baby that ran around Liana, in the mortal world. "Come, my son," Draco said. "It is time for you to learn the ways of our kingdom." Draco closed his eyes and slit his vein. He was summoning the Great Sword of his ancestors, which only a true dragon Lord could do with his own blood. But it was known to be a tiring and very long process that were to be done in seclusion. Everybody gasped as they saw Draco perfom the act, right in the middle of the kingdom in front of the entire population.Even master looked worried but he said nothing at that moment.

He was my father’s right-hand man, the one who had taught me sword fighting as a child, the one who had always been by my father’s side. And now, he was raising a strange black-bladed dagger, its tip aimed at Drake’s undefended back. Time slowed. Drake wasn’t aware of him. He thought the fight was over. But Kael had waited. He had hidden until the perfect moment. The dagger he held—something in it made my blood go cold. It was not an ordinary weapon. It was meant to kill dragons. I had to do something. Now. Instinctively, without hesitation—I jumped forward.

He frowns slightly. “I have only ever heard of something like it. The stories of the past say it is the sign of the true ruler… They say the very first Dragon was born with a gold crown engraved into his forehead. I thought it was a fable… a myth, but we are proof that it is not a myth,” Agnarr says, brushing his fingers across my forehead. “Also, I think it suited you perfectly. Yet another sign that you are all I need and I was right in making you the Drækaari.” His face becomes serious and I tilt my head.

He was in a fight with a dragon prince, all he needed was a distraction and today fate was on his side. The men were pressing Raisel and although she was holding her own, she was having a harder time doing so as the men pressed on. “Kill her off!”, Votigern barked with a sly smile. And at that moment Dragomir turned to Raisel then Votigern made his hit, he plugged the blade through Dragomir’s heart. The blade he had recovered from the blacksmith’s shop in Avalon, the blade he had recognized as the blade forged of a thousand dragon breaths, the only blade capable of piercing through a dragon’s thick impenetrable skin, the blade capable of causing great damage to a dragon in human form, the bl

Kael Ashveyn is no ordinary dragon king; alpha blood runs through his veins, a legacy from the mother who broke tradition to love a wolf. So when the mate bond drags him to Sable Windmere, a weak, powerless omega from the territories his court despises, his pride refuses to accept her. He humiliates her, ignores her, treats her as beneath him until the bond forces something in him to notice every time she's hurt, every time she's disrespected, every time she flinches. His wolf won't let it go, even as his dragon fights to. Slowly, unwillingly, Kael starts to change. And Sable, who has spent her life believing she deserves nothing, starts to wonder if the king who once discarded her might be

A rage so pure it left no room for noise, tears, or hesitation. I stood up, slowly and reached for the blade the King himself had dropped. It was enormous, heavy, but it felt light, perfectly balanced in my hand. I walked toward the Tiger King. Xaden's warriors were holding him, their pikes at his throat, waiting for my order. "Let him go," I said, my voice dangerously calm. The warriors hesitated, looking at Xaden. Xaden, who had seen the whole thing, simply nodded, his face grim. "Do it."

Free falling from the sky, I couldn’t stop screaming. My arms flailed around as if trying to grab onto something, even if there was nothing to grab. Above me was a Dragon, galactic in size. He had to be as massive as a mountain. I had to admit that the Dragon was alluringly breathtaking. Luminous metallic purple scales cascaded over its entire form. Its wings arched slightly as they span across the sky. Its head turned down as it looked at me, with large radiant indigo eyes. When it redirected and started flying toward me, I stopped screaming and simply stared at the magnificent beast.

"Apocalyptic Dragonflame, First Style—Dragonbreath!" He wanted to unleash the legacy he claimed here, to test its might. "Roar!!!" Just as he raised the Guardian, the projection of a dragon over a hundred feet in length bellowed. Its thick black scales glinted with apocalyptic purpose, its crocodilian skull that had deer antlers open wide as it bellowed ferociously with a might to destroy worlds! Boom! Black flames suddenly ignited over Caleb's greatsword, and as he swung it downward, it extended over hundreds of feet wide!