Great Spirit Shaman King Novels & Stories

“I will tell you.” This time, the voice did not respond and Sharee wiped the blood from her lips before pushing herself with great effort back to her knees. “The spirits led me here.” She began flatly. “Since your King took his throne in the blood of the three, the spirits have been whispering. Death is coming.” “What do you mean?” A sharp question from the darkness. “Something powerful walks in your palace… something that should not exist in this plane.” “You will think very carefully about your words if you do not want to die, Shaman. I do not seek counsel.”

His left hand barely closed properly anymore, its twisted fingers permanently curled from where I'd shattered every bone beyond repair. Yet somehow he still smiled whenever he saw me. It was a smile I never deserved and never quite knew how to accept. "Good morning, My King." "It isn't a good morning." He laughed softly. "I suppose not." The old shaman stepped toward the protective circle. With practiced ease he scattered fresh herbs over the symbols before muttering an ancient incantation beneath his breath, and the glowing markings faded one by one until nothing remained but scorched stone. Then he crossed the circle without hesitation, as though he had done it a thousand times before. Per

Still, almost nothing is the same as before. I’m a zombie, the living dead, the supreme specious of the planet, and the leader of one of the largest hordes in North America. I’m one of the Zombie Kings. My job is to keep the peace among zombies, keep my horde fed, and hunt humans for sport. I’m the stuff of Lacey’s nightmares now, and yet somehow, I have to rekindle our relationship so that I’m not forced to use her as a breeder.

the king said dismissively, avoiding your gaze as he inspected his coffee, as though the answer lay at the bottom of the dark liquid. "Shamans won’t bring someone back from death, even if you demand it," you challenged, leaning forward slightly, your skepticism clear. "Who said anything about Shaman magic?" the king gave you a sharp look, his eyes narrowing. "So the enchanting world is back in with the Lycans then?" you asked in disbelief, setting your cup down with a clink that echoed slightly in the morning air. "Don’t be so shocked. Haven’t you been using them to hide yourself and your lover boy?" the king teased, a sly smile spreading across his face.

she wondered, it had popped up in the info dump she received and the voice in the dark place had said it to her right before she first woke up here. "Regis, is an old word for king, or something. It's also connected to my phantom crest," The crest hissed at her and information found itself in her subconscious. "There are other Regis out there, I can almost feel them, and they can feel me. We're all connected… like a network."

The man in the Shaman and the King’s line of sight. Bathal arched his neck, trying to get a wiff of the man’s scent. To differentiate if he’s a Beta or a Omega. He thinks for a moment. ‘Maybe it’s just about the weather or what paint will be used to color the hates.’ But then the man screamed. It was Xaphar. A hunter. “My King — your son! He’s awake!” Bathal’s eyes widened and he tapped his feet against the horse, stopping the beast from moving. Even with his keen sense of hearing, he had to ask again. "What did you say, my good man?" The King asks finally.

The room broke into murmurs and whisperings immediately. “Yes,” Romero insisted, raising his voice and stomping his foot. “there are no curses or spiritual bondages caused by the moon goddesses' supposed powers. The diseases will be cured if we can harness medicine and herbs. There will be abundant food and livestock once we begin to practice agriculture. Every one of us is going to live fine once we teach everyone and empower them such that they begin to live above the poverty line. You see, the Shamanists in the land do not believe that we need to have a queen to solve our problems. This girl might indeed have powers and all that, but imagine what would have happened to all of us if we had

People could use different intent at very low levels, but to truly bring this intent to the maximum, they had to understand and experience. Killing intent needed the user to be used to killing. Sword intent needed the user to reach an mastery of sword art. As for King's intent, the user must have the experience of standing above the mass. For Sol, even though he was the crown prince, he didn't have the demeanor of a king. This is where his dragon blood intervened. Dragon fear was a kind of intent every dragon possessed. Though Sol as a hybrid couldn't use the power of Dragon fear easily, by fusing those two intents he reached a surprisingly good result. A mutation of sorts.

"I…" The stall owner got scared by the man's powerful vibe. It was so strong that he nearly knelt down. It turned out the young man possessed the attainment of a level six warrior king. Obviously, the stall owner was scared and he did not dare to take the spiritual stones Severin gave him.

He’s the spider and you’re the fly. A hand tangled itself in my hair, yanking me from my mind and throwing me into reality, where a cry of pain was the first sound I heard. My cry. “Never.” He hissed. The King hissed in my ear, “Never do that again or I’ll cut your hand.” ***