Drakon Of The Seven Armies Mga Nobela at Kwento

Jasmine POV: New King Sargon… he was here…. He and His Tallis army along with soldiers of Ostaban were all fighting together with Draco , Terra and petro’s Dragon… Soildered were attacking Dragons with their arrows, spears and metal ball…. while Dragon were using their own powers against them… in flash of wind Draco Dragon was overpowering soldiers…. his one fire full breath was sufficient to set an entire troop of army on fire…. As my gaze was fixed on hideous war that was happening in front of me, I saw that King Sargon who was commanding his soldiers to attack Dragons was about to get smashed under pile of big rocks that were about to fall down from broken Tower of Prince Edmund castle…

The Kingdom of Laera, known as the Home of the Knights, Slayer of the Dragons, the Archenemy of the Dragonae Kingdom. The kingdom set quite a reputation in the world of Elantro, one that was set apart from all kingdoms. The abundant food and water with the endless flow of magic in its nature made the world think the Laera Kingdom was the chosen one of the Fates. This was the very reason why the dragons from the Dragonae Kingdom wanted to take hold of Laera. However, after centuries of fighting over the land, they still failed.

What was this feeling? She stretched her glowing arm forward and I reached out to grab it. "It will be painful, but, let me out and you shall live." I nodded, entranced, before realizing what she had said. I blinked right before our fingers could touch and hesitated. "Painful? What will be?" I asked, puzzled. "Your shift." She said in a musical tone that trapped me again. "Drakkon. He calls." She sighed in yearning and anger. "Who is Drakkon?" I asked, mesmerized by her glacial eyes that seemed to see me. All of who I was.

He is bleeding freely from the head wound, blood running into his eye, but he wipes it away and keeps firing. Leon and Riker are moving up the breakdown lane, firing shotguns. The Reapers are pinned behind their truck. "Advance!" Drakon orders. "Push them back!" He stands up. He fires a burst, forcing a Reaper back behind the truck’s wheel. Drakon is winning. Even hurt, even outnumbered, he is the Wolf King. He is pure aggression. Then, the passenger door of the armored truck opens. A man steps out. He isn't wearing armor. He isn't rushing.

The shells were raised and aimed at them. Rumble! The ground was shaking. Drakonia's most advanced tanks were approaching. This turned into an exhibition of military weapons. All the top-notch weapons were on display. The eight Dragon Guards were about to piss themselves from fright. The military power displayed here was enough to annihilate a country with average power in arms. "Very well, Hades!" one of the Dragon Guards clenched his jaws. His face had turned pale. "Once we return, I will report what happened here to the Drakonia Royal Court. Aston has betrayed Drakonia! Doom will be upon you!"

Draekon muttered, placing his hands on his desk in a composed stance, but frowning when he felt some dust on his fingers. "Whose name was mentioned?" He asked, taking his hands of the desk and wiping it clean on a napkin that was neatly folded by the corner of the desk. "Hashemii." The name struck a nerve. Draekon’s wolf stirred beneath his skin, a low growl rumbling in his chest before he caught himself "Am I crazy for thinking that name sounds quite familiar?" "Not at all." Ambrose replied. "That is the former Sovereign leader of the DragonBorns."

White wolves were supreme to other supernatural beings, but that was until a dark sorcerer, DrakoenDrakoen, made a move for their incredible power. Drakoen is a formidable being consumed by all evil. He is the embodiment of all that is evil. He wants to be more powerful than anything living. He wanted the collective power of the White Wolves, which would make him untouchable and the ruler of the world. The white wolves could not let such power fall into corrupted hands. They made a sacrifice to kill themselves to die along with their power. They could not take the risk of fighting with him and losing to him because he had an army of creatures who pledged their allegiance to him.

Osiris pointed out. "The vision is unclear but I saw the spilling of blood and it scented the whole battlefield. And in the midst of the deads, there stood only two. A princess whose presence is of lucent hope and the other of the obscure darkness-the red dragon of an ancient story. Vetrik Jihn Drakon, the most powerful and detestably evil dragon of all." Leera stated in a trance as if she was seeing it happening before her. Her brows creased in concentration like she wanted to dissect every minute detail of the vision she might have received.

I knew their names the way everyone knew them: whispered in fear, moaned in fantasies, printed in tabloids that called them immortal gods and ruthless monsters in the same breath. Vincenzo Drakvolk. The tallest. The leader. Amber eyes that burned slow like embers under ash, voice that could command armies or unravel panties with a single syllable. Lorenzo Drakvolk. Gold-eyed devil with a smirk that promised sin, hands that looked made for breaking things—or making them beg. Valentino Drakvolk. The quiet one. White hair like fresh snow on a grave, silver eyes that never blinked when they decided something belonged to them. The one they called the devil not because he was cruel, but because he

The wagon reaches the entrance of the fortress building, and waiting right there at the entrance, standing alone like a shadow carved from the night itself, is a man in black armor lined with gold and a kingly crown upon his head. His presence is so powerful that it can be felt like cold mist dew sinking directly into my veins. Even the soldiers around me seem to tense at his presence. This man must be Azraelyrs. The Dragon King of Drakarith.