Dung Eater Armor Novels & Stories

he hissed in Binge’s ear, “because I’m going to indulge my gluttony to the fullest!” Meanwhile, in a darker corner of Corpsehaven… A battered metal door was ripped off its hinges and flung inward, crashing across the floor. Starving survivors, their cheeks sunken and eyes hollow, scattered to avoid the flying debris. They clung to each other—bodies trembling under the weight of trauma that no one should ever endure. Through the open doorway stepped a group of silent figures clad in sleek black armor, each plate designed for aerodynamic efficiency, every inch infused with glowing core lines that shimmered faintly along the seams. A rare luxury, even for the privileged.

Ding Hao pieced together the golden Sun God Armor. "It's strange. This armor is quite interesting." There was a flash of surprise in Ding Hao's eyes. The shape of this armor was extremely strange. It could cover almost every part of the body. The dense scale armor even could cover the fingers, the neck, and other parts. The body in this armor would seem to be covered with a golden thin film.

However, on the night of my 18th birthday, the first crack started to form in my carefully-crafted armor. I'd just gotten off work from the graveyard shift and was on my way back to my dormitory when I ran into a group of drunk street thugs. Just as they were about to force me to my wits' end, Vernon suddenly appeared out of nowhere. After chasing off the thugs, he gathered me in his arms even though my knee was bleeding from earlier. His hug threw me completely off guard. It felt like the strange yet familiar warmth of a father's hug—big, strong, and safe.

After making sure all his plans were going smoothly, Edmund visited a blacksmith workshop to see Berk and Bowen. “Ah, you came on time. I've finished the armor and shield made of red dragon scales for you,” Berk said with a happy grin. "Let me try," said Edmund, trying to put on his armor and shield made to fit his size. The armor and shield made of red dragon scales felt light and elastic, so comfortable on Edmund's body. The armor and shield were filled with dragon magic energy and were extremely strong, difficult for any magic weapon to penetrate. Edmund smiled with satisfaction.

The water itself seemed to shimmer with heat, distorting the view ever so slightly, adding an almost surreal touch to the sight before him, as if he were peering into a world of elemental power. The symphony of clanging metal and bubbling vent fluid filled the water, creating a harmonious blend of sound that resonated through the market. Tritan couldn't help but feel the intensity of the forge's atmosphere even from a safe distance. At first glance, the mermen working within appeared to be bare-chested, but upon closer inspection, he realized they were wearing tight-fitting light-colored leather armor, complementing their scales and offering both protection and ease of movement. Their tails

Duggar straightened, but he didn’t rush. Good. He understood weight. He gestured toward the tributes. “These are offerings from the Silent Blues,” he said. “Forged in our lands. Carried through our battles. Not for display, but for use.” One of his men stepped forward, lifting a piece of armor, dark, reinforced, etched with subtle patterns that hummed faintly with energy. “Tempered with moonstone,” Duggar continued. “Resistant to both steel and magic.” Another brought forth a blade. Slim. Deadly. Its edge shimmered faintly, almost invisible in the light.

Several wagons were heavy with netting rolled ready for use, the layers of different colour and width threads testimony to the many varied uses the nets had before being repurposed into monster traps. The horses snorted and danced, eager to be about the day and kicking up dust to take the shine off the armour that the company wore. The dark elves’ helmets were plumed, and the metal smoked, and I admired it thoughtfully wondering if I could use their armourer as whoever it was had a sense of style and not just practicality. “Ah, the Bane of Nerith,” Daerton was sober and fresh faced as he strolled across the courtyard. “I recognise that armour. Are you experiencing some nostalgia?”

Exquisite… the color and every detail on every part were what I call fantastic. All dark, like the color of the night. Every buckles and clutches were perfect places to hide and settle multiple daggers. Metal plates on the shoulders, arms, and down the knees. The boots were light and easy to move for its spikes like it is intended for leaping and landing on high areas. “I’ll assume you’re done. Follow me.” Edith appeared on an earthen brown armor. It was recently I realized that the combat armor I’d been staring at a while ago was what I am wearing now. The same kind of side braid fastened my hair and the black cloak aside easily clasped on my shoulders as I hurriedly catch up Edith.

But, again, she was being nice as she didn't have the right to object. The armor was forged from the finest silver, intricately etched with ancient symbols that symbolized strength and protection as Alpha Raven had explained to her. It hugged her form snugly, providing both flexibility and durability. The chest plate featured a magnificent wolf emblem, a testament to her status as a member of the pack and a warrior in her own right. Her gauntlets were crafted from reinforced leather, offering a combination of dexterity and defense. Each finger was equipped with silver claws, honed to deadly precision. A silver-trimmed cloak billowed behind her, offering an ethereal aura as she moved.

A cold air engulfs the cells as the door to the dungeon opens and a thin figure walks in. The person is wearing rusty green armor with the symbol of two salmons on it. He seems to be dragging his right foot as he steps closer. Anna can smell rotten meat and some kind of pungent stench which makes her gag. The figure comes under a dim light and Anna nearly screams.