Easton Black Magic Catchers Gear Novels & Stories

“I was right about them. They’re the blacksmiths of all supernatural creatures.” “They’ve been having those kinds of weapons they never used for battles?” Agatha asked as she studied the weapons I was gazing at. “This is where we craft our most valuable items,” Weston said as he moved across the stone table and grabbed a metal rod. “We have been crafting our weapons for this is the only thing we are good at.” “You’re not just good at it. You are excellent,” Agatha complimented and Weston threw her an appreciative smile. “How come you’ve been keeping all of these here without selling them?”

Westfall murmured that it’s dark magic, a kind of magic no longer taught and rarely practiced in Eastonia anymore. The moonstone bracelets on my wrists jingle as I edge closer to Ryatt. If this all goes to shit, I could masquerade as a gypsy, perhaps. I could read palms and tea leaves and sell fortunes. I certainly look the part. I roll my eyes at the thought. Despite how ridiculous I feel decked out in moonstones, and the fact that Ryatt, Westfall, and Granger are constantly watching my every move, I do feel better. I can’t deny that maybe, just maybe, this strange magic is working as intended.

The streetlights in the alley flickered weakly, barely illuminating anything at all. After moving deeper in, Andrew finally stopped. Both ends of the alley were blocked. On his left stood a row of men in black trench coats, all wearing sunglasses despite the night, each holding a weapon case. Their presence was suffocating. On his right were only two figures. One was dressed in tight black combat gear, a pair of short blades strapped to his back, and his sharp eyes glowing like predators in the dark. It was a classic Eastonia warrior look.

Kasey exclaimed. "Sometimes ya won't have a weapon to use. This is why ya need to learn to dodge attacks. We'll go through different types of weapons until ya can dodge everythin. I want ya to use that demon eye ya have to see my movements. So focus and channel your magic into it." Belasco's hands glowed white for a brief second and two wooden swords appeared out of the light. His clothes faded from gym clothes to a black uniform with the top half looking like it would be from a school uniform while the pants were tight before they became baggier until they were covered with shin-high black boots. Slowly a white Haori with pale yellow swirls slid over his form. His Iris's became white and th

The young man couldn’t answer and could only give her an acknowledging glance. “Catch!” The beast from the east raised his hand to catch the blade that Luntian tossed. As it circled in the air, the cloth unraveled the darkness of the blade. The opaque color deflected the brightness of the moon and stars. The black blade landed heavily on Calleb’s hand. In a full sweep, Calleb pierced the skulls of the Shadows that were surrounding him. The cracking and breaking of the bones made a terrible sound as the blade drilled against ten of them.

"Well, um, for some pack warriors they needed a BJ. It stands for Black Jacket," "A black jacket? Carter wanted a black jacket?" "Yep kiddo, but these black jackets aren't ordinary, they have magic chanted on them to help the warriors get more invincibility," I cringed, I don't want to lie anymore, but what can I say? "Oh, so Carter wanted those BJs too himself, huh?" "Yes, you see, Carter isn't a strong wolf, so he needed those to help him in the battle field," "I thought he'd be one of the best warriors in the pack? But anyway, I want it too Luna! I want it, I want it!" she exclaimed happily,

“Your stuff’s in the closet. Uniforms, towels, bedding. They measured you from the hospital records. Everything should fit.” I opened the closet door. Rows of black blazers, white shirts, red ties, dark trousers—all in my exact size. The emblem on every breast pocket: the shield, the bat, the single blood-drop tear. Like the school was crying for something it already killed. Fresh towels stacked on the shelf. A pair of black boots on the floor. Even socks. Black, of course. I turned back to the box on the bed, flipped the lid. Inside: a sleek black phone, the BludHeaven logo etched into the back. No brand name, no model number—just the bat and the tear. A charger. A folded note on top.

Zaria sat beside him, seatbelt clicking into place as the city lights bled into endless roads. When they reached the Easton compound, chaos reigned. Flames licked across the high walls. The once-pristine glass-and-steel structure—half fortress, half luxury estate—now roared with gunfire and snarls. Kael’s mercenaries, clad in tactical black, wielded both modern weaponry and corrupted talismans that glowed with stolen magic.

“A real Boss would come to me face to face. Why involve everyone in your little game?” Mr. Jersey bristles, cracking his neck before throwing some damaged gear onto the table. It looks a lot like the armor my BLACK EAGLE forces wear, although it also seems a bit off. If you aren’t familiar with the signature process of production, you wouldn’t notice how the breastplates aren’t properly joined. It won’t matter though, once everyone sees the mark inside the breastplate that’s now being passed along with all the other bits and pieces. It bears a very distinctive signature–the rose and blood symbol of the Westside Thorns.

he said and handed me a file. “Okay. Track down Diamond next.” I said as I went through the file. “Boss, your weapons and armor are ready. Black painted Desert Eagles with black bullets. Black spandex and mask made from mithril ore. Your sword were also infused with adamantium and mithril ore making it extremely durable even against M60 machine guns. We have carefully collected 10 black roses. Everything is ready for your departure.” Starlet said. He acts my right hand man and he commands respect in the KWE organization.