Grandmaster Griffin Armor Novels & Stories

"If it's as good as the Caesar Augustus, then it's a steal." Melinda swiped her hand, removing the illusion and returning the pair back to the shop. She went through with the purchase. "How can my cousin throw away money like that? He made a lot of changes, but the most important one is he replaced the stock armor with the 1004-HRF." "HRF? That crappy armor system the bean counters at the office love so much? Wow, your cousin should win an award for using such a cheap material to make such a cool looking mech. No wonder it carries such a huge shield."

All of them are wielding various weapons: pistols, swords, spears—all made of silver, all laced with poison. Elder Mauritius and Quillion could feel the heaviness in the air as the weight of the power couldn’t be contained in a small confined space. “Long time no see… Old faces.” the Headmaster sneered, his voice as cold as the void. “Do you think your old ways could defeat the power of science and advancement of technological warfare?” He yelled while raising his hands as if giving them a complete view of the armor he was wearing. “This armor was created with the finest silver, laced with wolfsbane. An armor made for this very day.” He exclaimed with a thunderous, proud voice.

But now that she was walking the first street, she could see why Apharothia was called the center city and why they were worthy of being the host for Gairoshi. Their guards weren’t on the ground. They were stationed above. Clothed in red and gold armor, they were like magicians with swords or arrows. She saw one of them nudge his pair's elbows and his partner nodded to the others, as if giving a signal. Looks like it was true that Apharoth was not lenient to its security.

His voice, sharp and filled with raw fury, made the air around me thick with tension. His power as Alpha seeped into his words, making every part of me feel small, insignificant. My wolf cowered inside, helpless against the force of his authority. Panicked, I scrambled, grabbing the remnants of my clothes. The red gown, once elegant, now torn to shreds. It was Gregory’s mother’s gown, a token I had worn with pride, now just a reminder of the humiliation I felt crawling over my skin. I didn’t have time to think. I scooped up the torn pieces, my hands fumbling as I tried to gather myself, every move frantic and desperate.

He looked weary but content. Across from him, sitting on a sturdy oak bench, was Fantasy Cyprian (The Shadow Knight). He was still wearing full plate armor, which groaned softly every time he breathed. He had a massive greatsword across his lap and was rhythmically running a whetstone along the edge. Shhhk. Shhhk. Shhhk. Leaning against the mantelpiece was Mafia Cyprian (The Enforcer). He wore a fedora tilted low over his eyes and a pinstripe suit that strained against his shoulders. He was smoking a thick cigar, blowing perfect smoke rings into the chimney draft.

Inside was a full sparring set made of reinforced lightweight armor: chest guard, arm guards, and shin guards all personalized with Alex’s name and colors—dark grey and royal blue. “We figured you’d want to go all-out now that you’re shifting,” Lucian said. “We may tease you, but you’re our cousin. That makes you ours to protect… and train with.” “Thanks,” Alex said, fighting tears again. “I’m going to wear this all the time.” “Not to school,” Aurora warned lightly, sipping her tea. Then came Seris, holding a small box of her own. It wasn’t lavish—just a square wrapped in simple brown parchment tied with blue ribbon.

“Size means nothing if I can’t get a hold of you. My strength does little if you can’t be caught. And the opposite is true if your opponent is faster than you. You must be able to slow them down to catch them.” Griffin finally sighed. “Work on escapes and captures.” He faced his hands for them to begin again. “I will work one-on-one with all of you this week.” After another twenty minutes, he dismissed the class. Hitting the lights as he stepped out of his gym, Griffin locked up and headed for the clubhouse and a much-needed beer. Parking his midnight blue Harley-Davidson Street 500 he noticed the yellow Harley-Davidson Seventy-Two Sportster. His eyes twinkled. “Griffin,” the bartender calle

Arth saw the knight's ruby badge placed at the center of his silver chest armor. ‘Woah... It's my first time to see a Grand Knight. His ruby badge is so cool!’ Arth thought excitedly. The knights stopped in front of the competitors and the grand knight stepped forward. Arth could not see the face because of the helm the knight was wearing. The grand knight’s armor was quite different from the others with him. There were golden lines at the edges of his silver armor, including his helm. His posture manifested his full-blooded body as he looked at the warriors in a calm manner.

Griff closed the distance between us, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Excuse me.” The sales assistant bustled toward us with a small stack of boxes. I narrowed my eyes and growled. “What?” “This arrived for you from an order you made from the Phileas Network,” she said with a sniff. “Our weapons.” Griff’s features broke into a broad grin. He took the boxes from the assistant and pulled me toward the fitting room. “Let’s see how many we can hide in our clothes.”