Novel & Cerita Guerreiro

They were stopped by two warriors guiding the door with silver badges on their breast plate. "Pardon us, Prince Arthur but your warriors are forbidden to enter the Kingdom as per the rule of King Bartholomeo!" "And who are you," asked Prince Arthur. "I am Gusion, one of the enchanted warriors of the King!" answered the warrior. Prince Arthur turned to the left side of the door where the other warrior guard was standing. "And you?" "I am Belerick, also one of the enchanted warriors of the King!"

Giovanni, Nicolas, And a third man who was standing in front of them, glaring at the two men as he stood behind the bars that he seemed locked between. His green eyes held the strength of a warrior, and his tired, yet strong eyes told me that he’s seen more than just a little war, or captivity. However, I could tell that he was feared, and feared by those who held him captive. “What the bloody hell?” Aurora asked, frowning in confusion. We saw the man’s eyes widen in surprise before he went to jump on the bars in front of him. The compass closed, falling on Aurora’s hand once again.

Herod, always the voice of reason amidst our impulsive nature, displayed a calmness that bordered on eeriness as he dispatched his adversaries with precision and grace. Rome, with his unruly mop of hair and a wide, devilish grin, was like a force of nature unleashed. His relentless energy and unwavering loyalty were a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. Keigan, the silent warrior with a gaze that could pierce the very soul, fought with an intense focus that left no room for error.

I braced myself, feet rooted in the earthy floor of the clearing, as he launched forward like a force of nature unleashed. His dedication to the North pack, unyielding and fierce, fueled his fury. With every strike, his muscles flexed, pronounced under the moonlight-a warrior sculpted by endless battles. Scars adorned his skin, rugged and raw, each one a grim chapter of survival written across his flesh. Thorne was not merely a fighter; he was a testament to the North's relentless spirit.

The man looked at Elio with scorn. "I'm Thiago. You probably haven't heard of me, you nobody." Elio's face tensed up. He thought of the scary people from the stories and asked, "Are you Thiago, one of the Twelve Evil Spirits?" Thiago was caught off guard and huffed, "Not bad, kid. You know who I am. Looks like you're part of the martial world too." The world of warriors had always been around for thousands of years. It never went away; it just went underground!

He didn’t hesitate to give her a reply. “My Chief Soul Weapon. Its name is Harbinger of Chaos. Harch for short. And I might say that it suits me quite well.”

Her armor gleamed in the dim light, and her eyes burned with a fierce determination. It was the reinforcement I had begged for—the one person who might be able to turn the tide in our favor. Her name was Kael, a warrior known for her unmatched strength and unwavering resolve. She was a legend among fighters, feared by enemies and revered by allies. Kael’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the chaos, the bodies of the fallen, and the bloodied faces of the survivors. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation, and then she turned to me.

Alexander’s chuckled, his voice seem to vibrate as he got out of the flames. Getting a grasp of things throughout their short fight, he was able to divulge the difference between the three. Giro was the name of the one without sleeves, whose strength was formidable. Cicero was the one whose body was fully covered, boasting a remarkable speed. And Metikulo was the only one wearing a robe with a large open sleeve, seemingly quite adept in magic. Hearing their voice he was sure that they were just young boys.

When my opponent faints, in less than 6 seconds, I drop his body to the ground and look at the fascinated head warrior. Well, I see you've had good teachers. Who trained you, and where did you learn that? I've been training with the leaders of the River Ash Pack since I was six years old. They trained me and the Alpha's son together. This blow I just did, I learned from a Portuguese werewolf I met. He called it "Mataleão," which means "lion kill." - You have to explain that blow to us. - It will be my pleasure. - I answered him.

(I'm all good, and you? "Non male" (I'm not bad). "ho sentito della morte di tuo Padre" (I heard about the death of your father). "Accetta le mie più sincere condoglianze" (accept my sincerest condolences). He added. "Grazie" (thank you). "Chi è questa bellazza?" (Who is this beauty?). He referred to Kris. "La mia ragazza" (my girlfriend). "Ah...hai degli occhi buoni come tuo Padre" (ah...you have good eyes like your father). "Forgive me Bella(the beautiful one), I'm Alessandro". He extended his hand to Kris and she took it, smiling shyly.