Grimoires Black Clover Novels & Stories

Rain was pouring heavily, leaving some loose strands of hair dangling around her drenched face. Her black converse bonnet is soaking wet and it felt so frore on her head. Calming herself, she listened to the voice in her head, having no other options for help. The creature before her kept grunting as if speaking in a language she doesn't understand. "Now Luna, orcs are VERY dumb. All you need to do is repeat after me, and by my signal you should sprint to the direction I told you—to that dark alleyway."

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

Her grandmother looked out the window and felt strange about what she was doing outside the house at midnight. Tazaana recited the spell as she held the necklace and closed her eyes: "WHEN DAY AND NIGHT MEET, THE BLACK MIST OCCURS." After she recited the spell, the wind blew hard along with the lightning of the sky, which was illuminated by the moonlight and was covered by dark clouds. Her grandmother shouted, calling her name. "Tazaana! What are you doing there? Run away fast Tazaana!! " She remained there and did not run away. Of course, her grandmother's screams could not be heard because of the window that was still closed, along with the thunder.

BECCA'S POV The closet was a coffin of camphor, mothballs, starch, and the suffocating, metallic tang of Josh’s blood. I wiped my eyes, my heart still stinging from the kiss that had tasted like iron and stolen secrets. I hissed, "You're just too shameless. Caressing and touching a stranger like you're sex-starved. I'll implore you to keep your hands to yourself; I'm not one of those girls whom you cheaply get into their pants."

I stand in front of the mirror. I look at the big plaster across my neck then I look down to my wrists which also has plasters them. What am I going to do? I need to find something to wear that will cover them. I walk over to my wardrobe and open the doors. I grab my t-shirt, jeans and scarf, then I grab my black hoodie from the side of the wardrobe. I put my t-shirt on and my jeans. As I’m about to put my Van’s on...

Fear slowly creeps in as I stand in front of Zane. “It’s time to make you my familiar,” Zane states as if that wasn't obvious. I nod my head, ignoring the fear, anxiety, and disbelief as the conflicting emotions mix into a strange cocktail that threatens to spill everything I just ate onto the floor. Zane waves his hands, and a silver blade with strange black markings appears in one hand while a black chalice appears in his other. Zane holds the chalice between us. “Put your right hand over the chalice.” Zane directs.

Their skins turning pale, their bodies having sparse flesh atop its skeletal framework and veins turning black making them look more or like zombies. The remaining four had to find a cure for this ailment, "Black Death"; they called it, Kimora was created by them, it came with a price, killing everyone with dark matter and three of the elders died in the process, Kimora was so powerful it did the job but a little too well having a mind of its own the last Elder saw this as a threat had the Kimora gotten rid of and he vanished not to be seen again.

> [You have received the following:] Skill Book: Shadow Clone Blacksmith Subclass(Permanent) 10 sp Instructor Bladesmith Affinity - Intimate Looking over the rewards, he noticed that unlike Old Wolf's Skill Book, this one wasn't random. He also noticed that it seemed familiar. He took out the book from his inventory and opened it, which prompt it to turn into a white light that entered his body. [Skill Learned...] Skill: Shadow Clone Skill Level: 1/5 Rank: A (S at max)

“But you’re a leader. And that matters more.” --- Elsewhere — The Obsidian Warpath Savannah rode at the head of the Obsidian army, flanked by elite black-armored wolves and bond-breaker mages. At her side, Graham Wolfe wore a smug grin, but there was unease behind his eyes. “She’ll fight,” Graham said. “She’s changed.” Savannah’s eyes glinted. “Then we remind her what happens when little girls play goddess.” Behind them, the Elders moved in floating carriages of enchanted steel. The war priests whispered ancient chants, binding power to weapons forged from moon ore and dark blood rituals.

To Pride. First Blood. Another one. Creek’s smile dies. “Four?” He looks at me. At Cove. At Ash. At Pride. “Mother’s greedy.” “Mother’s done,” I say. I pull the bone knife. No more talking. I throw it. Not at Creek. At the ground between us. It hits. Sticks. And the gold vines change. They go from the knife. Out. Like a web. They touch every Blackmire wolf. Every Redfang. Every Duskbane.