Novel & Cerita Fairy Tail Doranbolt

Occult branch sect, he is famous for bringing many new talented disciples for his sect, defiling many young maidens (for which many men are jealous) and for his tamed Giant snake. ABILITIES: -Firebolt(250 MANA) -Trigonal Flames(500 MANA) -Fire minions(depending on number of minions(100 MANA for every summon per minute )) -Beast Taming Mastery(low level beasts) -Flirting(doesn't work on males) ..... ... ... .... ....

she repeated. He chuckled and ran his hand through his dark hair, which caught the light of the moon and made it look like satin threads. “My name is Slate,” he told her, looking her right in the eyes. “I know the dragon well, Princess, because… I am the dragon.”

If it thought it was me then. "Who am I and what am I?" I asked. " Danae Ravdylon. Bearer of the Ice Dragon." It managed to sound dry even with its kind of voice. I folded my arms and nodded. "So, you're an ice dragon and I carry you. Fair enough." It flapped its wings again. "I am 'THE' Ice Dragon. The only one. The bearers may expire but I live forever. Only I. For another to be born, I have to expire."

Caspian muttered. Lastly, there was one sorcerer who drew my attention the most. My eyes locked onto the sketch of Dorian. My heart began to pound erratically. The line of the jaw, the cold yet oddly familiar gaze. I felt as though I had seen this person somewhere before. Not in a nightmare but in real life. “Who is this last one?” I asked, my voice trembling. “His name is Dorian, the Blood Architect. He’s the one who designs the ritual seals and ensures the flow of energy from the sacrifice reaches Vane,” Niobe replied briefly.

Madchen fidgeted nervously in her new dress. Drago had certainly thought of everything,she thought to herself. Standing in front of the full length mirror,she watched as the attendants he hired fussed with her satiny coral cocktail dress. Her Fiery hair cascaded down her shoulders in spiraling curls,and her fingernails and toes were painted a matching coral as well.

Barclay's laughter filled the air, while his gaze was focused on the witches. "It's your funeral," he said before collapsing to the ground. Slowly he turned on his back, breathing labored and eyes focused on the sky. Doreon raised his head to the red clouds and the dark sky, everyone around him was motionless, as he caught his breath. The pain had stopped abruptly and his body ached so much that he could see the stars, but he did not look away. He knew what was coming, or rather who was coming. He never thought to say it, but he couldn't wait to see a Deorgh: his body was filled with relief when the huge black dragon emerged from the clouds.

(Throltys) Throltys is a proud Dragonnewt, with 250 cm tall, muscular, and scale bound. He is bound to invoke attention from others, he is like a lizardman, but he is not, he is a Dragonnewt a race who is a direct descendant of a dragon. And they are not only smart but also abnormally strong, both magic and physique. Most importantly, the Earth Dragonnewt is undoubtedly loyal to me as their entire race was given to me by the Carefree dragon that lives behind my house back in New City. So in terms of performance and loyalty, Throltys is someone that I don’t even have to worry about at all.

She said, pointing to a silver hairs male who was talking to a male with long dark hair, his gaze flicked to me, and I swore his eyes were black. "And over there is my sister Imelda. I believe you have met her mate Balthazar, and then there is Damon, our brother, and his mate Alora. The grumpy dragon's name is Garren." She stuck out her hand, and I gripped it, giving it a firm shake. "Zane, but you already know that. It's nice to meet you." She gave me a warm smile before turning to Colette. "So Balor was telling me that you also have healing magic?" She asked; Colette gave a nervous smile, nodding.

I ripped my arm from Blake and knelt on the other side of Eldora. Bolton looked to me with veins protruding under his eyes and he bit deeper into Eldora’s neck. “You can’t kill her.” He simply growled at me and grabbed the little fairy bodies tighter to his chest. I should be grossed out how he savagely drank her almost dry, but I wasn’t. “Release her or I’ll stab you with my baton again.” I held my weapon out, pointy side in his face. Bolton’s fangs slowly exited her skin, leaving her limp and barely alive in his arms. “She is mine.” He declared and my eyebrows shot up at him. A small pang of jealousy shot through my chest, but I ignored it.

If you don't agree, let's have a noble duel. This time, Baron Lorient was provoked. To be honest, Baron Lorient was a fifth level magician. This level of combat power was considered quite good even among the nobles of the continent, after all, nobles relied more on inheritance than military strength. But Baron Stewart was a dragon vein warlock, so he couldn't really beat him.