Iron Body Monarch Novels & Stories

He could never harm her or the people she cared about. She approached Eden who still stood near Curzon's body. He hadn't stopped staring since he bit the Blood King. She touched his arm. "Eden?" He startled at her voice and backed away from her, his expression dark. There was blood all over him—his hands, his tunic, even specks on his trousers. He looked like he'd been dragged through carnage. "Don't get close to me," he said. "What do you mean? Why?" "I—I'm a Blood Monarch. I fed on him."

(Princess Helen Hallerus) Canceling her Invisibility Spell, Finally she appeared before everyone in the present. Fully clad in thick brown robe, Her presence does carries an aura of a monarch. The same feeling that I have when I meet with Duchess Kolarova Qoon, In Fantasma, every monarch carries that same Passive Skills, {Aura of Monarch}, it was just not a skills but also a one true aura that signifies that one is a true monarch that were acknowledge by the Fantasma itself.

"We Thorax warriors are descended from a short, sturdy physique, except for the massive monarch members, who have the same skin tone as black warriors." The King responded calmly, "Then why are you back to your original height?" The Thorax warrior was under a spell, and Calyx intended to hurt him and put him to sleep, but the King merely wished to calm the warrior's temper. So, he hoped that the dagger Calyx was holding would be his.

her eyes drifted towards the broken window, worried. “I’m sorry for barging into your home like this.” Iron said, in that same calm, gentle tone that Deborah had spent years hearing him use with the pack members “My name is Iron Aster, Alpha of the Kingdom of Eclipsor.” “The Lycan King.” Dawn swallowed dryly.

The iron king did not go down into the vault. It smashed through it like an iron wedge cutting through a tree trunk. The seven-foot tall monolith made of wood and granite hit the blue table with a loud thud that shook the earth. This immediately broke the remaining chess pieces into a cloud of dust. The weight of the iron king was so great that it did not just tilt the floor. It cut through the stone pillars that held it up. This caused the entire room to drop down thirty feet into the dark before it got stuck in a V-shaped space made of rough quartz.

POV EMMA BELLE The harbor was a graveyard of broken dreams and twisted metal. Malakai hadn't just brought ships; he had brought an industrial nightmare. From the bowels of the Dreadnought, a new horror had been unleashed: the Iron-Hollows. They were humanoid machines of brass and riveted steel, but they didn't run on coal. Their chest cavities glowed with a sickly, captive violet light—the siphoned essences of shifters who had been captured in the Western Isles.

Then came the screaming. Clawed hands, pale and rotting, broke free from the soil. Bodies grotesque and inhuman began to crawl out of the abyss. Not demons. Not vampires. Not anything I’d ever seen before. These things were older. Wrong. Their very presence made the air turn sour and thick with decay. The Void Monarch… he stepped back. For the first time, real fear crossed his face. “No,” he hissed. “They were supposed to sleep forever.” “What are they?” I breathed, the dagger trembling in my grip again, its edge now glowing silver-hot in my hands.

"Who are you?" "Ah," the voice sent a shiver down her spine. Sapphire wrapped my hands around her body and took a step back, a sense of fear quickly gripping her. "You truly are a descendant of The Twin Monarch. Your beauty and aura are no joke," Sapphire squinted her eyes as she looked at the throne. The person on the throne appeared behind a black mist and Sapphire gasped.

“Eira of Silvermoon Kingdom versus Ironwall of Blackrock Kingdom!” Gasps erupted instantly among the spectators. Ironwall was an infamous figure feared throughout Blackrock City. He was no ordinary contestant, but the ultimate killing weapon of the Blackrock Royal Guard. Standing two point two meters tall, he was always encased in three-hundred-pound dark golden heavy armor. Most daunting of all was his innate energy immunity. Any elemental primal power would bounce harmlessly off his armor and unique physical constitution. He was an impenetrable fortress built purely for physical combat.

“That is not possible.” She nodded once, her expression tight. “It should not be.” A cold chill ran through me, “What kind of markers?” I asked, though something inside me already knew the answer. She met my gaze, and there was no avoiding it now. “One belongs to the Ironblood Alpha line,” she said. My breath caught. “And the other…” she paused, as if struggling to find the right words. “The other is older. Stronger. It carries the signature of the Lycan King.”