Goblin Slayer X Priestess Novels & Stories

But as soon as their eyes meet, Oliver diverts his face from her. This lady is Fiona Robelo, wife of Rowan. She is very pretty and attractive at the same time as she holds the blood of an Estries Vampire. Her mother was one of that kind. She is the descendant of these Jewish vampires and the last of them too. She is like succubi who can transform into any living being, just like her kinds. These Estries vampires prey and feed on men. That's why they are more pretty than other vampires. Whenever someone looks into their eyes, they can feel being sucked by them easily. It is basically because of the power these women hold.

Cassian walks back inside the room and offers me a gentle smile, one I readily return. I stare into the teacup with my head down and breathe out a sigh. From feeling so high to being dropped down with guilt weighing on me, was it even worth it? “I saw a happy vision, by the way…a future she spoke of when she said we unite under one banner,” I say with a smile. Then my eyes widened as I thought of the other thing the priestess said and I was just about to say something when Rune spoke. “What did the High Priestess mean by ‘beast with purple eyes’?” he says as he leans back with his arm draped over the back of the couch. “I have never heard of any beast like that, especially one that smells o

Sonya slowly made her way to where the mood goddess was standing. “Yes, moon goddess I am.” Sonya stated. Selene then took a dagger off her waist and made a slit on her forearm and Sonya’s. She held them together and said “I, Selene the moon goddess, do bestow the power for my goddess pendant to you Sonya Myers soon-to-be-Turner, to be its protector and in doing so be able to use the power from the pendant, when necessary, in the course of that protection. Do you accept Sonya Myers?”

Olga was an old woman who had become the pack's herbalist, it was essential to have one in a pack because, the herbs are used in the ritual to crown an Alpha which in turn the goddess turns the Alpha fur silver. Atarah dropped her basket beside Erza's basket, Olga came close to them and grabbed Atarah by the ear. "You have been avoiding me, little one. You used to come here all the time, when you were a kid, you were so interested in plants." She said with her old weary voice. "I have started school recently, so I don't have much time." Atarah lied as she pulled away from her. "Hmmmmm......You are still not a very good liar, are you?" Olga said and Erza giggled cutely.

She needed an uninterrupted line of sight for that spell to work. So she resigned herself to another spell, the last spell she learned from The Tower, before she returned home. Cassana waved her arms and with another incantation, the broken glasses on the floor rose up and coalesced right above her, forming the shape of a serpent. She pointed her staff towards the misty mass in front of her and the glass serpent lurched towards it. If she was lucky, one of the thousand fragments of glass would find its way on the drow's neck and slice it open, ending her life right there.

“Go on.” “There is a plantation there but its just a front…” The goblin lets out a cough from his lungs. A huff that would have spewed blood if the wounds on his body were still present on his form. His own body betrays him and acts like it still has those wounds even though there isn’t any physical evidence of such. The spell that Garth uses is one that is implemented in the body but never restores the mind from past experiences. In essence, even though there is no wounds on his small body, he still felt the phantom pains that those engravings once created. Garth’s large hand slips grips the creature's throat nice and hard. The sensation of the leather gloves that he wore reaps through the

Within seconds, the room emptied, and silence settled around us like a secret waiting to be spoken. “There’s something I need to share with you,” she said seriously, stepping closer. “We received information from our priests. There’s a group… a cult, calling themselves the Slaves of the Moon Goddess. Black magic worshippers. They operate in shadows, blending illusion with reality. They’re dangerous.” Before I could reply, she reached forward and pinned a brooch just below my collarbone—silver, sharp-edged, shaped like a crescent claw gripping a moonstone. “There will be moments when you won’t be able to distinguish what’s real and what’s not,” she warned, locking eyes with me. Her gaze was i

In her hands, she held a staff adorned with small, glowing crystals that seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy. The priestess began to chant, her voice rising and falling in a soothing melody that seemed to calm the mournful atmosphere. She invoked the moon goddess, calling upon her to guide the departed souls to the afterlife. As she spoke, the air seemed to vibrate with an eerie, mystical energy. The priestess then proceeded to light a series of candles, each one representing a different aspect of the werewolf spirit: strength, loyalty, and resilience. The flames danced in the flickering light, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the mourners watched in silence.

the priest hissed. Elara’s voice rang like a bell struck by war. “You built your kingdom on our ashes. Now you’ll drown in them.” She hurled the Crownslayer like lightning. It struck the priest’s chest, and the runes flared so violently they split the sky in half. The priest screamed as the blade devoured the magic anchoring him to this world—consuming him in silver fire. By the time the light faded, there was nothing left of him but smoke. Silence fell.

She exhaled slowly, her resolve unshaken. Sabrina turned to Rose, handing her the blade next. Rose’s expression was calm, but her hands trembled slightly as she accepted the blade. With a measured breath, she mirrored Cora’s action, dragging the blade across her palm. The blood mingled with Cora’s in the bowl, deepening the crimson hue. A soft hiss escaped her as pain bloomed in her chest, sharp and invasive, like tendrils reaching into her core. The priestesses’ chants grew louder, their voices weaving together in a harmony that felt otherworldly. The Pack Soul’s glow intensified, its pulsating light casting flickering shadows across the chamber. Sabrina raised the bowl high, her voice ring