Grand Master Varka Novels & Stories

Visible Vika and Viki smile hearing the Trinity Master knowing they are the grandchildren of his student and immediately a light appears directly towards the head and moves to cover Vika and Viki's entire body and then a voice from the Trinity Master says to them ; "Get up you two" Said Master Trinity to Vika and Viki who seemed to immediately get up from his squat and saw in awe the flow that was felt in their bodies and immediately said "Thank you master" Said Vika and Viki as he bowed his body to say his gratitude and the Trinity master returned only seen smiling and walking towards Milka, Santos and Juan and said to the three of them.

“In that case, Iʼll meet with Sir Lothar and tell him that we’ll carry out the mission.” “Yeap! Go and see him now!” Waleria waved her hand dismissively. … Two elderly gentlemen were seated facing each other in a secluded area of the Verdett House. Both were staring hard at the chessboard placed between them. Parthias Qavek, the Great Elder of the Verdett House, held a chess piece in his hand as he pondered about his next move. The man was considered the second strongest cultivator in the Verde Academy.

One moment, he is enjoying a good fuck from an Alpha, and the next moment—here he is, trying his best not to skin himself alive. There are voices inside his head that are way louder than his own voice. Those voices keep on reminding him that he is an Omega—just an Omega. The lowest of the lowest. The ‘thing’ who’s only goal in life is to be played by those fucking Alphas. A nothing. A sudden crawl of goosebumps invaded his whole body. He can literally feel how hard his heart is hammering inside his chest. He called Cross ‘master’. Master. He looks at his reflection once again and laughs hysterically.

Charlie couldn't help but sigh and say, “Marcius Stark, whose name was originally Martin, was born in Coleham. After cultivating, he was called the Longevity Master and renamed himself Marcius Stark.” Vera was even more shocked, “Young Master, how did you know so much about my father’s master? My father once said that his master focused almost entirely on cultivating throughout his life, and people knew very little about him. Moreover, he had been gone for nearly four hundred years. Where did you hear all this?”

A hush fell over the assembly. “That’s the Grandmaster, right?” Mars whispered into Yver’s ear. Yver nodded, his voice equally low. “Yes. There used to be two- him and his wife. Grandmistress died a month ago. This event is in her honor.” Mars nodded, this piece of lore adding a new, somber layer to the glittering affair.

That was the solicitous grin he used when trying to make a deal. "I'm sorry, Great Warrior Dagerstanteen." Varnas glared at Norwell like this situation was all her fault. He quickly unlocked Chasm's cage and pointed to the interior. Norwell did as she was bid and crawled into the small space next to Chasm. When he was finished locking them in, Varnas turned back to the new arrival. "You are not second to a slave. I am pleased to meet you." Varnas bowed to the taller Dagerstanteen. "How may I help you?"

The gravelly voice comes from the center of the crescent table, and my eyes lift without meaning to. Grandmaster Halvard, first among the nine and the founder of the Order and of Lifgard, observes me. Silver hair cropped close, a face weathered more by decades of judgment than age. His insignia sits at his collar. Two spread-winged ravens facing away from each other, representing Odin's all-knowing watchful eyes. Before my punishment, he was my father. His gaze holds mine. “We have heard Grandmaster Nero's account of your interrogation.” My eyes can't break away from his.

I carry no wolf within my chest, but the blood flowing through my veins holds a power that makes every true-blood in this room feel their instincts curdle. Across the table, Dr. Julian Ziki—the self-proclaimed Grand Master of the Westmere Order—flinches. His fingers drag through his white goatee, his eyes darting toward the heavy oak doors of the pack hall as if calculating his chances of escaping Blackveil District alive.

Something old enough to have survived being forgotten. Then a voice cracked through the passage. “STOP.” Kael turned slowly. Council Elder Varrek stood at the far end of the stairwell, flanked by six warriors wearing the silver mark of council authority. His smile was thin and satisfied, the expression of a man who had been waiting for exactly this moment. “You move quickly for a king with nothing to hide,” Varrek said. Kael stepped in front of Aira without hesitation. “You overstep.” Varrek gave a short laugh. “You underestimate how quickly power moves when it smells weakness.”

After five years of being forcibly institutionalized in a mental hospital by my parents for “rehabilitation,” I awakened the “Slap System” skill. One slap, a million dollars deposited into my account. Another slap, my combat power skyrocketed. Just as I was thoroughly enjoying my slapping spree and preparing to leap over the asylum walls to break free, my parents suddenly arrived to take me home. The moment I stepped through the front door, I saw my adopted brother Atticus Hawthorne, eyes reddened, holding my fiancée, Cassandra Vaughn, in his arms. Meanwhile, my real brother Roman Montgomery was locked in a dog cage, bitten and torn by vicious hounds, covered in wounds, and breathing his