Dumbledore's Black Hand の小説・ストーリー

He pauses, gaze narrowing. “And yet he interfered,” the Black Mage mutters, bitterness dripping from his voice. “The White Wizard. He couldn’t save the girl, but he stole the bloodline from my grasp—smuggled it into shadow. Preserved it. Watered it like a weed, hoping it would bloom again.” He raises both hands now, dark magic crackling between his fingers. “Well, let it bloom. Let them try. I will burn it root and stem this time.” The cursed circle beneath his feet pulses with rising heat.

He did not understand why the black hand was sealed to his rival's bones. "What's going on? Didn't that black hand appear to hold the bones? But now it seems like the black hand is protecting my rival's bones," the old man's mind was in turmoil as he watched everything unfold. The black hand was taller than the bones, but the seven different chains seemed to be trying to restrain the black hand, or more accurately, the black hand was trying to protect the bones from being sealed by the seven chains. "I really have to call the emperor. Maybe he understands what's happening here!" said the old Ci, preparing to go up and call Long Chen. But when he turned around, the old Ci saw that Long Chen h

I was inside the meeting room, the elders were slow to give in and let they get in there, but finally I was facing Nikolai, Kalina and Alice on one side, while on the other was Blanca, Agnes, Flora and all the rest of the witches and wizards who had arrived. Nikolai wanted to help and was the right one, I needed to do that, but all the others insisted that I should not get involved with her, Kalina, according to Blanca mess with black magic had a great consequences, not only for our body, but for our soul.

Donald says, but there’s no conviction in it because after everything we’ve been through, impossible stopped meaning much of anything. “She’s at the old Blackthorn castle,” Alistair says, and his voice has gone cold and tactical in the way it does when he’s pushing emotion down to deal with later. “We need to move now.” “Wait,” Donald says, and he’s got that look on his face that means he’s putting pieces together. “Morgana Blackthorn. I’ve heard that name in the old texts about blood magic.” He’s pacing now, running his hands through his hair. “She was Kate’s teacher, but the records said she died centuries ago, they said she was trying to achieve true immortality and it consumed her.”

“The Black Book holds the oldest secrets of the royal bloodline. Spells that can bind an Alpha’s wolf forever. Records of every forbidden ritual. Names of those who broke the laws of the Goddess. It can end the Alphas… or remake them. As for where it is hidden… the royal vault is only the beginning. The true location shifts with the moon cycles. It calls to those marked by darkness. You will know when it wants to be found. But beware … the Book does not give power. It takes. It always takes.” I opened my mouth to ask more, desperate for anything that could help me, but Elowen leaned back into the shadows, silent once again. The itch in my hand returned with a vengeance. I scratched harder, b

He ended our phone call with a click from his end, the sweat dripping down my brow stinging my eyes just a little. “Stupid little cunt.” It was his father who had gotten me on my seat, not him. He was just a child when the royal family was taken out and we began the restructuring process. Black Coven had been running things from the shadow for years before even he was over in England. “Pompous Alpha bastards.” I went into my private study and saw five of my zeta’s pooring over the books, notes being taken on legal pads as they went. “Any luck?” I asked them as I too sat down and began to read.

On the eighth day, scouts reported that Liesel's army had entered the Black Forest. They were moving faster than expected, driven by hunger and rage and the dark magic that animated them. Their numbers had grown to nearly a thousand, a writhing mass of corrupted half-bloods who no longer remembered their names or their families or their lives. They were just creatures now, beasts with empty eyes and dripping fangs, following Liesel's commands because they could not do anything else. Elif gathered her army in the meadow. Five hundred half-bloods, scarred and weary and terrified. But they stood tall, their chins lifted, their eyes bright. They were ready.

There was no way a Necromancer and a Witch could be friends. "Thanks," I said, "for everything." I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "Just answer something for me." I looked back at his dad and saw that he wasn't alone anymore. More figures in red-trimmed robes had joined him. It looked like they were chanting. "If you make it very, very quick." "Did you really not have to kill anyone to gain your power? Like for Necromancers in general, not just you."

“You can’t be serious.” Salvatore folded his hands behind his back calmly, as if he had not just suggested I willingly walk into the arms of the people who murdered Enzo. “Draco Castellano is not merely Dante’s eldest son,” he said evenly. “He is the future of La Casa delle Ombre. The brothers absolutely trust him. Even their patriarch Dante relies on him more than anyone else inside the organization.” “And that means what exactly?” I snapped. “You want me to seduce him?”

Lord Elden nodded, "Very well." They continued their journey to the palace. Meanwhile, a tall female witch in a black robe that hung down to the ground came out of the forest. She walked towards where Lord Zathur's body was lying on the ground. He placed his hands on Lord Zathur's body as he stood up. Her black and beautiful lips uttered a spell known only to the wizarding nation. Suddenly a green light shot out of his palm and enveloped Lord Zathur's body. Lord Zathur's injured body parts slowly closed up until they were fully healed.