Hail Of Thorns Novelas e Histórias

“The Hollowed, the real ones they’ve been waiting, hiding beneath the layers. The Prophetess wasn’t the end.” Kael knelt by him. “What are you talking about? We destroyed the Hollowed’s core.” Thorne grabbed his arm, nails digging in. “That was only one cult. The outer ring. The true believers those who speak the Dreamer’s name in sleep they never left. They’re using the Rift tears as sanctuaries. And one of them… one of them has found the Thorn.” Aria’s blood turned to ice. “The Thorn?” she whispered. Thorne’s gaze locked on hers, suddenly lucid. “The only thing that can pierce the Dreamer’s veil. The only weapon that can kill what isn’t meant to die.”

I close my eyes biting my lower lip and say softly, “Hands to yourselves Mr. Hawthorne.” “You make me turn on whenever we’re alone, especially when we are in a confined space.” Adrian whispered into my ear as I felt his breath tingling around my neck and could feel my arm hair rise, having goosebumps as he stroked my arm gently up and down. He pushes me slowly into the small room that has a small bed which has only a divider that separates the room.

Yoel rushed to Holly's side and wrapped her in the safety of his arms. His eyes preyed towards the crowd. When he glared at Cecilia — the girl who had started it all — his glare was so intense it was as if he wanted to lash out at her.

I traced the hand holding the gun, and my sight met that of the pair of eyes that'll forever hunt me. They were bloodred eyes!

Rachelia raised her scythe and it shined bright crimson that hurt Lars' eyes so much he couldn't shake it off even by closing his eyes. The wall of ivies shifted, lining up the thorns' positions to face the incoming Chimeras. In a loud, catapulting noise, the black thorns then shot out, completely destroying any Chimeras smaller than a house, or mortally wounding ones slightly bigger than that. The thorns were gigantic, sharp missiles that brought doom for anything comes near Librarium. This made Lars realized of how these walls acted as the fortification Rachelia meant. "Wow, that's... really great."

"Fine, is that how you want to play it? You must not have experienced the true horror of the Fantasy Sect. Rosalind, bring the torture device!" Rosalind brought out a bundle of thorns without any hesitation. The thorns were pure-black, and its tip was so black that it seemed to be glowing with a purple-black cold light. Rosalind walked up to Darryl with the thorns in her hand and said, "These thorns are from the demon vine tree. Once stuck inside your nerve, it would magnify your pain by ten times. On behalf of the Sect Master, I'll ask you one last time, will you translate for us?" Inwardly, Darryl was beyond furious, but outwardly he displayed a relaxed expression. Then, Rosalind immediate

Brawen has read through knowledge about this species of thorns, so she knows a little: Moore, try to avoid them, don't touch them, hurting them will only make them mad. Hundreds of thorns shot straight into the sky, they wiggled in all directions to catch the enemy. Those strings are illusions that are real, being stabbed by it will hurt like silver bullets, but as long as the simulated space closes, it won't hurt anymore. Contrary to Brawen, Irina unleashed a huge fire on the thorns, who cried out in pain. But just as Brawen thought, they immediately became enraged and attacked Irina.

Why? When Seraphina raised her hand, the world seemed to suddenly shudder. As the wind blew through the clearing, I felt the surge of power around us, her strength radiating like a hurricane. The earth let out a deep cry of power as her strength increased. Something enormous erupted beneath us, something ancient. Thorn. With only a few seconds left to spare, the ground split open and Thorn emerged from the depths of the earth, towering over us. My first encounter with him had a hunger that ran through his eyes, and his smile was the same—sad, determined.

He shoved the beast aside. The sound of it—the crack of flesh against resin, the shock of air rushing out of the crowd—it ripped a sob out of me before I could bite it back. My chest heaved. Relief sharp as pain. But then Selene. Her voice like silk, her smile perfect. She raised her hand, and the air bloomed red. Thorns. Long, barbed, bleeding as though they were alive. They lanced into the sand around Jude, weaving up, a cage, a crown of razors.

And then, without thinking twice, Purple Smoke released them all at once. It was too late for Ferlah to back off. The thorns were already buried on every tentacles of her as well as her own body. Actually, Ferlah also had some of her tentacles inside to protect her but the thorns were like an army of locusts. And so, in the end, some of them managed to hit her body despite how strong and invincible the protection was.