Gary Oldman Lord Shen Novels & Stories

Pointing towards the monster skins on the floor, Lorist said "I got three of them wrapped up inside. Go look at it yourself." A slender and tall elderly person rose up out of the entryway behind the counter. Seeing Lorist remaining at the counter, his melancholy face illuminated with a sprinkle of a grin. "You're back!" This elderly person was the supervisor of the Red Grace Inn, Brennan Charlando, whom Lorish alluded to as Old Char. Try not to go for his limping stroll for conceded; no one really might guess that this passive, calm elderly person behind the counter was truly a One Star Gold Swordsman. The vast majority of the benefactors of that motel never understood.

The outspoke man nods his head out of respect and goes back to stand with the others behind their lord. Zesh's right-hand takes its place along the forehead of the older man. A deep and unrelenting sigh escapes his lips. Afterward, his lungs take up the stale and heavy air everyone shares. Orange sparks emanate from Zesh's fingers as if his own energy and power is being drawn upon from within his own sanctum. The heat from the traveling sparks makes the old man's forehead like scorch-like flesh that has been in the sun for too long. The voice of the fire lord reaps from his throat, but the tone is low enough so that only he could share words with the man if he so desired. "You have lived a l

“That contribution is of great use of the hunt, and for the greatest escape. No one but you alone contribute greatly to my army. They able to move the greatest plan thanks to you, brother!” The bloody-suit men shaken and hurrily bowed their head. In their heart, they bitterly sigh. The action of the lord is clear, and they must properly do their duty or else scram for even have an ill intention for the old man! “My lord's words is kind,” the old man said, there's a hint of power within it. “I will forever think that way and will never swayed just because I'm a hag!” He face the bloody-suit men and stood with might. This action cause them dread, as if just now they saw the might they never po

Inside the mayor's mansion, a fair-skinned young man sat in silence as he sipped some spiritual tea. The young man was Thorold, and he was surrounded by seven or eight of his family's elders. Thorold exuded a thunderous aura despite his youthful appearance, and the elders around those elders were that of a level seven or level eight royal saint.

"Never." "No. Not a puppet," he said, his hands still held on tight on her shoulder. His eyes widened with excitement. This was it. He would finally be another step closer to his goal. "You are going to visit Helen, hear her out. Listen," he said, calling her already divided attention. "Hey, hey, Lord Tobin is powerful and we can't do anything to stop him. But who else is more powerful than even Lord Tobin himself?" He asked and didn't even needed to hear her say out her reply. "Exactly. You can do this, I just know that." He straightened his posture and added a little seriousness in his glare, then he brought his hand to his stomach as he lowered his neck to a bow. "Your majesty." Fiora's e

Pain exploded across the side of his face and Lan crumbled down to the floor. "You runt," spat his sire. "I should do away with you." Crouching, Lan cradled his jaw, trying to stay his tears. He felt his father's boot forcefully dig into his side and cried out, folding into himself. "Maybe I'll let Aron h--" His sire's speech was interrupted by the library doors flinging open. In walked a lycan elder. His white robe swept the gleaming floors as he approached them. The old elder's voice came out in a horrified rush. "Your Highness, there's been an attack at Gornagon."

His eyes burned gold, twin suns behind stormcloud lashes, and when they found Caelum, the weight of that gaze pinned him harder than any cuff. The one who had dared touch him prostrated instantly. “The offering, my Lord,” he croaked. “As foretold…” Velis approached like sin given shape. Black as judgment, elegant as a blade unsheathed. “How disappointing,” he murmured, circling like a trainer appraising a trembling new pet. “The legends promised a prince. I see only a half-broken toy.” His gloved hand touched Caelum’s shoulder— and it was the softness of the leather that made it unbearable.

But then he suddenly gets furious at Ario and Tolas and hits their head hard, “You both are nothing but idiots!” “Hey, don’t hit me! I did my hair for Angela last week. Now I’ve to do it again.”, Ario shouts. And so does Tolas, “Yeah! Don’t hit me either. I’m older than you.” He keeps rubbing his head in pain. “Don’t go to his face. He’s an ancient item.”, Ario whispers at Tolas while Alan stares at both of them. “He and Lord Edward are the same age.” “WHAT?!”

When they shifted their position, the ray of light fell directly on them and he could see the shining silver mask… silver mask? Commissioner Shen said, “You are seeing correct Guang Long, the Demon Lord is back!” To everyone’s dismay, Guang Long smirked…

Once done, the guard stepped back, smirking at her as if she were stepping into her doom. The large doors creaked open, groaning under their weight. Arianna stepped into the courtroom, the shackles clanking at her wrists as she walked. The four seated Lords immediately turned their attention to her. The oldest of them was Lord Merek of the Western Wing, his brown hair falling to his shoulders, his eyes sharp like daggers. Beside him sat Lord Valoreth of the Southern Wing, the one whose eyes held calculated malice and lips were always curved in a perpetual sneer.