Erza Scarlet Purgatory 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.

This was not the loose-limbed, comfortably clad, highly amusing rogue companion who had shared my bunker and earned my wolf's raw trust. This was a massive, lethal sovereign of the highest tier, his imposing physique wrapped in the severe elegance of midnight black and deep corbeau-blue armor plating that only precision military tailoring could achieve over raw muscle. A pure diamond node glinted at his throat-guard, a heavy gold data-chain cut across his flawlessly flat midriff, and as he raised a scarred hand to acknowledge an approaching commander, the worn metal of his ancestral signet ring flashed under the light arrays.

Elara whispered back. ​She tightened the grip on her obsidian shard. She had no armor. She had no army. She wore only a tattered servant’s tunic and the blood-stained cloak Kaelen had thrown over her. But as she stepped onto the main road leading to the gates, her footsteps didn't falter. With every step, the golden light in her eyes intensified until the snow beneath her feet began to melt from the sheer heat of her aura.

It crashed onto the jade floor of the trial ground like two toppling mountains, burying the entrance beneath rubble and dust. "Kill!" Bloodthirsty roars cut through the haze. Butcher’s towering figure was the first to charge through the smoke. Scarlet tattoos on his bald scalp glinted fiercely in the dim light. Several gashes torn into his dark armor oozed black venom, making him look even more ferocious. Dozens of fully armed Dark Blood elites flooded in behind him like a black tide. Butcher’s gaze locked onto Eira, wrapped in silver light and hovering mid-air. The dense condensed power made his heart twitch with unease.

Lorenzo suddenly spoke up: "I'm getting this scar removed." I looked up curiously. "Why now?" "Maybe you'll like me better without it." I was confused. He glanced awkwardly at Edward's tombstone. "You loved him, didn't you?" I laughed. "What are you thinking? I was just telling him we're done. Even if there's a next life, I don't want him to find me again." Lorenzo visibly relaxed. But when we got home, he immediately scheduled surgery to remove his scar.

"The ruby symbolizes the final, successful objective. You are carrying the lifeblood of the Valenti dynasty. You will wear the color of its power. Prepare the announcement, Amara. The final phase of the fortress construction begins now." ​Amara looked at the massive, fiery necklace. The cost was staggering, the symbolism terrifying. It wasn't a gift of love; it was a crown of dynastic power. She was no longer wearing the blue of a bond; she was wearing the red of absolute claim. She was the foundation, the architect, and the living symbol of his unassailable legacy.

Each lock removed was like a knife through the Aria Vale, leaving behind something sharper, angrier, and stronger. I placed a binding cloth across my chest, flattening it and wiping away the remaining vestiges of the girl who had been betrayed, humiliated, and framed. I gazed at my reflection in the glass. My eyes were flaming, my jaw was set, and I was no one anymore. "I am Arian Vale," I whispered, glancing at the documents on my thighs. The words tasted like iron and vengeance. "And I will never bow to a man again." I have no idea if I meant that because I don’t know what is waiting for me.

“I won’t hurt you.” The girl pulled back at the sound of her voice. “You’re her,” she murmured. “The cursed one.” Lydia stood frozen. The words pierced her more than she wanted to admit. But before she could respond, a sudden crack split the air – boots trampling through the small trees that clutter within the forest. A Purge squad was near. Acting on instinct, she quickly shielded the girl behind her as three wolves emerged, clothed in silver armor that shone faintly under the dim light of the moon.

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.

Asura pointed sharply at his younger brother with his index finger. The fire demon screamed loudly and pulled out the weapon taken from the volcano earlier. From Arya Santanu's chest came a dark red armor with the symbol of the sun. The armor immediately covered Arya Santanu's entire body and merged with the fire demon's gloves and shoes. "What?! Asura is using his armor?!" Hiranyaksipu knew very well the power of the armor. For a moment, his hands trembled. Arya Santanu's head was protected by a visor adorned with a crown made of red flame. But if you looked closely, the crown was floating just above Arya Santanu's head. The crown was not fused with her head protector.