Elang Martial Novels & Stories

After hearing the disciple’s exclamation, the First Elder as well as Edward Gray immediately flew upwards to affirm the saying. However, because the distance was too far away, they could not see who the Fourth Elder was fighting with. It was also because of the distance, that gigantic aura tiger looked like the size of a human thumb. “Hmmm…It looks like the Fourth Elder has run into some elite fighter of the Nine Armies today, and that elite fighter should be at least at the seventh-grade of ultimate god realm. Otherwise, the Fourth Elder would not have used this technique. This technique is a third-grade elementary level martial skill!”

(A/N : Thank you for reading this story. Please support the Author if you like this story by giving rate, likes and comments! (≧∇≦)/) A day had passed in Tianshang De Kongjian since Ming Yue began her study in Martial art and Sword Art 'Yueliang Hua'. For martial art, Ming Yue was taught by Bai Hu and Qing Long and for Yueliang Hua, Ming Yue had to study it on her own. There was 9 stages in Yueliang Hua. It used both Yin and Yang combination. Ming Yue finally understood why Zhu Que said that many martial artist were searching for this Jianshu. Just by reading it, Ming Yue understood how powerful art Yueliang Hua was.

His advisor scowled thoughtfully before he said, "Their forms resemble apes but are far too powerful and enormous to be just that. I believe that they might be the Gigantic Monster mentioned in ancient studies." "Gigantic Monster?" Yang Jian's stare turned cold. Then, he said ruthlessly, "I shall destroy them!" Yang Jian raised his Tri-point Double-edged Saber steadily, and a wave of intimidating aura exploded. The clouds were instantly pulled toward him, and storms started to gather. He was the one and only Grandmaster Erlang whose rage could move the earth. Yang Jian's form blurred as he leaped into the air swiftly with a tight grip on the Tri-point Double-edged Saber. At that moment, the

Dragon fire erupted from his hands, striking one assassin and throwing the other into the mist. Elara dropped from her horse, landing lightly on the ground. Silver-violet flames ignited from her palms. She spun, blasting two more attackers as they leaped from the shadows. The energy flowed smoothly, guided by the shadow-thread within her. For a moment, it felt intoxicating, powerful, seductive, dangerous. A third assassin came from behind, blades aimed at Kael. Elara turned just in time, slamming her palm against the stone ground. A wave of energy erupted, throwing the attacker backward. Kael recovered, raising his sword with a grunt of acknowledgment.

she scoffed. Elio had been training in martial arts since he was a kid, learning from a master. He knew his stuff and recognized the moves right away. Surprised, he shifted into Mystical Pure Technique, his moves graceful and sharp. The Mystical Pure Technique was from Wuldeen Boxing, and it was all about balance—combining spiritual, internal, and external strength into one powerful force. Bang! Bang! Bang! The two young fighters exchanged punches and kicks, their battle as thrilling as a movie scene.

But today I trained with heavier swords, and I know I can fight, using them with some skill. Eleline is dressed in next to nothing but tight black shorts and a tiny black top, exposing all of her flat, toned abs with no curve in her hips. His hair is braided and he has warrior marks all over his body, from his cheeks to his arms and belly, all in a shade of red that I think is supposed to mimic blood. My marks are black, and are only present to represent the pack. To represent the forbidden god and wait for your personal blessing today. Ragnar approaches me.

Elara moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly, her sword slicing through the air with precision. One of Fen’s lieutenants, a hulking brute named Draven, lunged at Elara, his claws aimed at her throat. With a swift, fluid motion, she dodged his attack and retaliated with a burst of Celestial Flames. The ethereal fire enveloped Draven, searing his flesh with a brilliance that seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality. He howled in agony, staggering back. Kai and Alex fought side by side, their coordination a testament to their years of training. Allan, with his keen senses and agility, flanked the enemy, striking with deadly accuracy.

“Still sharp-tongued. You’ve always been jealous. Don't think I'll give him back to you. He's always been mine!" “I don’t eat from where I spat,” I say quietly. Gasps ripple. Lyra’s face pales, then turns crimson. “You think you’re better than me?” she spits. “You’re nothing without Kael! Doom is just using you, Elara. You’ll see. Everyone will!” She steps forward, close enough that her perfume burns my throat. “If you’re so sure of yourself, prove it. Let’s fight.” The crowd stirs. Mira tugs at my sleeve, whispering urgently, “Elara, don’t. Lyra’s family—her bloodline founded half the combat techniques in the northern packs. You know what she’s capable of.”

Pride surged through me immediately after. Dark, possessive and violent. I spent the next thirty minutes teaching her everything. Eye strikes. Throat shots. Joint breaks. How to use knees and elbows when trapped. How to create openings from impossible positions. And Elara absorbed every lesson with terrifying focus. By the end of the session, both of us were drenched in sweat. Elara collapsed onto her back against the mat, chest heaving while staring up at the ceiling. I dropped beside her a moment later. Close enough for our arms to brush.