Elf Knight Novels & Stories

Akira and her companions are not easy to defeat so he will bring them a huge war. Hundreds of knights in full battle attire lined in rows in the wide space outside the Aqua Edis castle. They are armed with swords, shields, long spears, bows, and arrows. Some are mounted on their horses, some will march by foot. General Thud spoke in front of the knights. "Tonight, we will kill an enemy that has been a headache to our king. After this night, we will claim the whole Ehtrehto Edis and the world that exists!" He shouted with arrogance and confidence.

The loud growl of the Darkrai burst on the dark forest making the knights trembles on their feet. "Calm down Gray, there's still next time. You're going to see her next time," the man said, the highest among the Aristocrats, the Emperor of Corceigea. Horror was seen on the knights eyes when the Emperor cut off the head of the knight he ordered to guard the lady. He didn't know that there was a disciple inside the house, he thought that it would be easier for him to get the daughter of God especially when she's living with ordinary humans, that was his thought.

"Well, that changed when I became your number one knight." George rolled his eyes. His feet moved again and took him to stand in front of the dirty knight. "You could always ask for something better to wear." "What? Too dirty for your liking, your majesty?" Anthony chuckled, shoving the king gently. Anthony liked his attire. His ripped black jeans with custom made knee pads over them. The leather strap across his chest that held a sword or a bow (it depended on the day, really). The metal chest pad over his green sweater—the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muddy and scarred arms after each day. The black cloak tied around his neck. It was just him, and he couldn't imagine himself in anything

she was about to greet him, but it wasn't Elias who was there. "Uhm, Good Morning, Eleanor," Knight said smiling, it was early but he was already wet with sweat, he was wearing Elias' old undershirt that had a tear on the side. As a result, the shape and muscularity of his body were clearly visible. "W-what are you doing there Kn—Kit?" Eleanor asked in surprise. "Isn't it obvious? I'm chopping wood," he answered and smiled at Eleanor for a moment. 'This man is really different; he can spend billions but still chops wood,'

More like a player noting a move on the board. They turned down a narrower hallway. Here the torches threw smaller pools of light, leaving shadows thick between them. “You don’t like him,” she said. “I don’t trust him.” “Because he spoke to me?” “Because he doesn’t move like the others.” Kael’s tone was mild, but there was a sharpness under it. “Knights are dangerous pieces, Serenya. Their strength isn’t in how far they move, but in how unexpectedly they arrive.” She almost laughed at that, but the sound stuck in her throat. “And what am I? A pawn?”

The other half jeered, calling him a usurper, a cursed prince. King Mathias raised a hand, silencing all. “So be it. The second leg of the test begins. My strongest Knights and Shapeshifters show him the might of the crown.” The battlefield gates creaked open. From the east side emerged the first knight, towering in enchanted armor, wielding a broadsword so massive it seemed forged from the bones of mountains. His presence alone sent a ripple through the crowd. Behind him came two shapeshifters, bodies half shifted already, muscles rippling under skin that bristled with patches of fur. Their snarls carried across the field, feral and eager for blood.

When I reached the raised dais, the Queen held out a ceremonial sword—silver and storm-blue, lightning etched along the blade. I knelt. Her voice lowered, but carried: “Rise, Lady Abigail Stormhart. The Storm Knight.” When I stood, cloak draped around my shoulders, I didn’t just feel like the main character anymore. I felt untouchable. And as I turned to face the hall again, Alaric waiting for me at the bottom of the steps, his smirk was the kind that said: That’s my woman now. Norma, from the side, whispered loud enough for several knights to hear:

With a swift movement of her sword, Elaine sent Leana’s weapon clanging to the ground a foot away, then held the blade to the pale girl’s neck. “Get your feelings in check, Leana, I can read your frustration like an open book,” Elaine said smoothly and coolly, as if it was a fact so obvious it was dull. Lowering her blade, the knight stepped off the dueling mat. With a slight hop, she landed on the tile floor, much like a cat; she never stumbled. Sword sheathed, Elaine started to undo her armor, Leana following suit but two paces behind.

He landed hard, unmoving for a breath. Kaelen staggered to his feet, rage burning away the fog. Serenya’s pulse hammered in his chest. Her fear, her hope, her strength—they bled into him, tethering him upright. He growled, shifting halfway, claws sprouting even as his sword stayed firm in his grip. The knight tilted his head, almost curious. “You burn too bright. You will be unmade.” The greatblade lifted again, runes glowing brighter. The soldiers behind the knight began to chant once more, voices feeding the power.

The blade stained with fresh, dark red blood, streaking unevenly along its length. A man approaches the kneeling knight, his heavy, predominantly back armour clinks as he approaches. The knight’s amber eyes roam upward from the rubble covered ground, noting the deep red accents in the dark knight’s armour and the dark chainmail underlayer visible under his neck. As soon as golden knight saw his face, he knew who he was, Mestre Escuro. Mestre had a stern, intense expression accompanied by his sharp, angular structured face, defined cheekbones and slightly furrowed brow. His skin was pale, contrasted by subtle shadows that deepened the contours of his face. His unnaturally red glowing eyes see