Erza Scarlet Black Wing Armor Novels & Stories

Eya inspects her handy work making me smile at how proud she is. “It’s beautiful, you two did amazing work together,” I comment, grabbing the black leather pauldrons which are embossed to match the rest of her armor. The pauldrons are layered, almost like the scales of a dragon, working down covering Raven’s upper arms. I smile thinking of how Raven will look like a beautiful strong warrior queen in the stunning armor our vaari and her stepdaughter made for her.

After a few minutes of doing that, Emily started to talk about the plan. "The east wing of the kingdom, the alpha calculated that hunters and rouges would be there." "The Alpha squadron will stand by there," Emily explained. "Millie and Lilac will lead." "What about the entrance of the palace?" Icarus asks coldly. "Bravo and Charlie squadron will be in front together with me, Dillon, and Leia," she answered. Drake growled, disagreeing with her sudden change of plans. "You’re not going to war, Emily." "Drake warned."

I murmured while I burst into tears. All of a sudden, something miraculous happened and Hiro taps my shoulder to get my attention. "Dylan, look over there," Hiro astonishingly said to me. The dark sky clears with the radiance coming from the ashes of Aria. Large ivory-colored wings spread out wide and to our surprise, Aria transformed into a powerful and indestructible warrior. She now has a strong big body built with golden fearless eyes. Her hair turns into gold and grew two times longer than her normal hair length. Her teeth have long fangs, and she has long curly horns similar to a ram. She is wearing golden armor with a white flared shirt and gladiator shoes. Aria is not an angel or a d

"It's nice to meet you too, but just a small correction, we aren't mates...we're just companions for now." "Ohhh...my bad." "It's fine." 'So this is his beta?' Linessa thought, rumoured as a Demon by the Devil's (Zhamar's) side. He didn't seem like much of a demon right now. From what she could see in the darkness of the evening he looked pretty innocent with his blonde hair and blue eyes. But she could see his thick, bulky muscles and as the sleeve of his shirt shifted while he drove, she could see the jagged scar that tore from his wrist to his elbow. It was a brutal map of a past battle, a reminder that his bulky frame wasn't just for show.

My eyes snapped open. The room was frozen. The three Seeker drones were suspended in mid-air, their red lasers mid-flicker. Dante was half-collapsed, his hand outstretched toward me, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated agony. Even the smoke from the ruined mainframe was stalled in the air. I wasn't seeing the world anymore; I was seeing the code of the world. I stood up. My silk dress was gone, replaced by a shimmering, translucent armor of silver-black scales that seemed to pulse with my own heartbeat. My wings weren't just pillars of light anymore; they were sharp, metallic blades that hummed with a frequency that could cut through reality itself.

he instructed, “hands neatly behind your back, head up, and walk.” We stepped along the narrow cobblestones embedded in the earth. Sicca led the way, me following directly behind him. He seemed to glide effortlessly over the ground, completely untethered by the lack of elegance I carried—he had enough grace for both of us. Two guards stood before the glass doors. Both were clad in armor that looked unnatural in this setting, as if they were determined to stand out from the surrounding nature rather than blend in. Yet, what really caught my eye were the wings—something I had never seen before. They were like delicate dragonfly wings, attached to their backs. Nearly transparent, with only the

She was dressed in a short, black mini skirt with a high slit over her left thigh. I could occasionally catch a glimpse of the diamond-trimmed garter she was wearing. Her heels were spiked with a gold tip and fringe that swayed off the back of her heels as she walked; she wore only a black jacket, with a lace, push up bra beneath. The jacket allowed me a beautiful view of her body. Her eyes were closed, and the car was silent as we presumably traveled home.

From the west gate, Kaelith entered. Her crimson armor shimmered with golden filigree, shaped like feathers and flame. Her long black hair trailed behind her, braided with embers. Her eyes, storm-grey and fierce, locked forward with focused calm. In one hand, she carried a flaming whip, coiled like a sleeping dragon. Her boots barely touched the ground as she walked—hovering slightly with each step.

They exploded. BOOM. Dust and debris rained down. A figure stepped through the smoke. He was massive. He wore armor made of blackened steel that seemed to absorb the torchlight. On his back was a greatsword the size of a grown man. His face was scarred, his eyes the color of storm clouds. He wasn't a hero. He didn't glow. He looked like a walking war crime. The Mercenary. The Black Wolf. Vespera didn't stand up. She sipped her tea.

Eryx’s voice was a low, strained rumble of Lament-Steel agony. He was standing five feet away, but a wall of indigo-black silk had sprouted between us. His obsidian-iron armor was being "Stitched" by a thousand silver needles that darted from the ceiling, attempting to anchor his violet-black stardust to a specific coordinate in the grid. His crimson eyes were wide, the prehistoric fury in them being replaced by a glazed, mechanical devotion that made my blood run cold.