Drakon Of The Seven Armies の小説・ストーリー

Below us, in perfect, terrifying formation, stood an army. Thousands upon thousands of drow and drangel soldiers. They stood shoulder to shoulder, black and white and every shade in between, armor gleaming in the sun, weapons raised in silent salute. Banners snapped in the wind, their colors unfamiliar but bold crimson, sapphire, obsidian. The army didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. They just watched us, a living wall of eyes and ambition. I’d seen lycan armies, dragon flights, even the ragged bands of human rebels. But nothing like this. The discipline, the stillness, was more terrifying than any roar or battle cry. They didn’t look like they were waiting for orders.

The doors to the heaven close behind. And a name gets engraved on it. Joining the list of other gods of heaven. Entry no 777 Death Wolf/ Thaneos - The god of Death. .............. The End.................

The warlord stood. He was taller than she'd expected. Broader, too. Built like a creature shaped for war, but moved like he could vanish and strike in the same breath. As a child, she had often wondered what a dragon might look like in human skin—a question whispered between old books and nursery rhymes, half-believing it was myth. But if you ever did see one, it was said to be the last sight your eyes would know. And now, here he was: terrifyingly real, terrifyingly calm. A dragon made flesh. And he was looking at her like she was already burning. "You are Sera of House Vaelir," he said, descending toward her with deliberate, predator-slow steps.

The prince of the rouges growled. Drake was panting, gasping for air. He closes his eyes, feeling the presence of the beating heart. As he opened his eyes, it was blood red. He wore the devil's eye. It was cold, dark, mysterious, and dangerous. The prince of the rouges steps backward, trembling. He didn't try to struggle off the chain; he just wore his dangerous lopsided grin.

Mina grabbed Aruther by the wrist, squeezing in desperation “Arthur do something... she can’t stay here,” Murdok cocked his head to the side as Mina’s voice echoed down the hall and Arthur turned to his wife, jerking his wrist from her grasp. “What is that supposed to mean, Rori would be just as safe here with Murdok as she would be with us.” Arthur turned to inspect his bride, “where is this coming from Mina...you sound like the Grand Master and half the Vail High Court…” Arthur did not finish as Mina perched her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders. “Maybe they have a point, Art…” Arthur hissed at his wife’s dismissive tone and looked at her as though she had struck him. “Mina this

I slam my wings forward, scattering the flames across the clearing as my jaws snap toward his throat. “Your war ends here,” I growl. But Malrec laughs. Even as blood drips from his broken scales. Even as his wing hangs twisted from my earlier strike. “You still don’t understand,” he hisses. His tail lashes violently across the ground. A signal. Three shapes burst from the cliffs above. Dragons. The last of his followers. They dive toward the clearing in a desperate attempt to break the formation of my army. Jakob intercepts the first one midair.

She leaned against me while I began to tell her. “As you saw for yourself, my brothers and I are dragon shapeshifters. We boarded our ship and escaped our world. Drakkon has been at war for many years and the weapons the Curonder’s, that is who our enemy is. They last used a weapon that had turned into germ fare. It has made our women sterile and they can no longer bear children. Along with the chemicals from the weapons that went airborne, it is killing off all vegetation. And poisoned the water. The water had all but dried up by now. My brothers and I tried to tell the council that we needed to leave our world and find someplace to start over. But they argue that with women not able to giv

It's perfect for me because even with his larger build and greater strength, I'm a worthy opponent in human form. Drakon heads to the center of the room with his back to the egg. I want him as far away from Pepper's son as possible. Drakon's silver eyes give away his intent a second before he charges in low. I leap over him and turn. My foot is up and I land a solid kick to his back which sends him toward Pepper.

Drago questioned, worry present in his voice. Drykator drew his own sword, Justice and his father’s short sword Legend and turned to Drago “Thought you were a real hero?” Drykator shot back in a snide voice. “Look!” Dontain whispered, finding the man at the back of the army nothing more than a silhouette, holding a staff held high, black smoke emanating from it, swirling up towards the sky like a tornado, the sound of screeching vibrating through every essence of life.

The sky over the Shattered Vale burned with the aftermath of war, smoke rising in black plumes, molten rivers casting eerie light over the battlefield. Soldiers, exhausted and battered, pressed forward, rallying behind the king who now moved like living fire. Verath Dravenor, Dragon King, had fully unleashed his power, wings spanning the horizon, scales glowing molten gold. Every step he took scorched the ground, yet his focus was unwavering, tethered by the bond that connected him to Elara.