Iron Dragons Slayer Novels & Stories

Nathan then instantly flipped over the air and stands at Zitrey’s side. Slayer smirked from the unexpected hit he receives. He tardily holds his long blade katana while tapping it on his shoulder. The dull part was colored in black while the sharp one was in shiny silver, and in between, they were a dark purple in a zigzag pattern. The weapon was scary enough to make goosebumps, it seems possessed by the shadow of death. Slayer then uttered while staring intently to Nathan, “I will play with you lad. You seem fun.” he then looked at his remaining troupe, “There are still few people upstairs, so babies, kill the rest~”

I stand rooted to the spot, a silent witness to the unfolding spectacle, my heart pounding in my chest. As I watch in awe, Thrystan conjures his own flames, crafting them into a sinuous ribbon of fire reminiscent of a dragon's coil. With practiced precision, he sends the fiery tendril hurtling towards the assailants, ensnaring them in its fiery embrace. The flames do not scorch their flesh, but bind them in place, rendering them powerless and petrified. In that moment, it becomes clear – Thrystan is not merely a Scorcher; he possesses the legendary Dragonfire within him.

“Mr. Draco’s circulatory system was damaged, yet he is still able to maintain his master-level prowess. May I presume that he was a grandmaster at the peak of his health?” Mr. Draco narrowed his eyes and got on his knees. “Dr. Kayson, I beg you to heal me! I, Skye Draco, am willing to forever be your follower!” Mr. Draco’s full name was Skye Draco. “Are you the “Dragon Slayer” who has gone missing for the past few years?” Jeremy was surprised.

"I never said, though. Sometimes I think everyone is just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending is how you get brave, I don't know. Let them call you Slayer, who cares?" "You never liked Ser Alliser to call you Aurochs." "He was saying I was big and stupid." Grenn scratched at his beard. "If Pyp wanted to call me Aurochs, though, he could. Or you, or Jon. An aurochs is a fierce strong beast, so that's not so bad, and I am big, and getting bigger. Wouldn't you rather be Sam the Slayer than Ser Piggy?" "Why can't I just be Samwell Tarly?" He sat down heavily on a wet log that Grenn had yet to split. "It was the dragonglass that slew it. Not me, the dragonglass."

Her wolf clawed at her chest, restless, hungry. Her voice came out as a whisper. “Why now? Why me?” Kael’s gaze cut to her, his face carved in grim lines. “Because you’re Silverborn. Because Dorian’s blood runs through you. Because every side sees you as a weapon to claim or destroy.” Her tears broke free, spilling hot down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be a weapon.” Kael’s hand rose, hesitated, then cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. His touch burned, steady, grounding. His voice dropped, hoarse. “You’re not a weapon. You’re a storm. And storms choose where they strike.”

Ruby questioned pointing at the purple bladed black scythe displayed on the wall over the fireplace. "Well, that's Azrael, slayer of immortals. It can kill even gods, demons, and the highly phantasmal Dragons. It's an heirloom one of my ancestors collected from a gorgon. No one wielded it because they were too afraid of its power. It can strike fear in everyone by its mere presence as people tend to be when facing death. Once an entity is slain by its blade their existence will vanish completely. It also destroys both the body and the soul, no heaven or hell just nothing. It is one of the sharpest blades in all of the Realm of Twilight along with Excalibur." Adrian explained after putting do

“They’re here!” The words struck me like physical blows. They’re here. The nightmare we’d spent weeks whispering about in council chambers had become reality. The Ironbloods. Magic-wielding killers who had burned entire villages to ash. Malakor. The warlord. I froze. The slums had taught me how to survive. How to steal. How to fight. How to disappear into shadows. But this wasn’t another tavern brawl. This was war. Monsters. Magic. Blood. Death.

Mina grabbed Aruther by the wrist, squeezing in desperation “Arthur do something... she can’t stay here,” Murdok cocked his head to the side as Mina’s voice echoed down the hall and Arthur turned to his wife, jerking his wrist from her grasp. “What is that supposed to mean, Rori would be just as safe here with Murdok as she would be with us.” Arthur turned to inspect his bride, “where is this coming from Mina...you sound like the Grand Master and half the Vail High Court…” Arthur did not finish as Mina perched her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders. “Maybe they have a point, Art…” Arthur hissed at his wife’s dismissive tone and looked at her as though she had struck him. “Mina this

You sold me to the Shadow Walker? Everyone in the Oakhaven underworld knew the stories. Dante Vane wasn't just a Don; he was a myth wrapped in a bespoke suit. They said he was born from the very shadows of the city's foundations. They said he hadn't touched a living soul in ten years because his skin carried a curse of rot and ruin. He was the "Iron" that kept the supernatural factions in line, and he was a monster. lt was the only way to keep us alive!" my father cried out, reaching for my hand.

“Your father believes it was rogues. I believe it was something else.” I stood up. My legs were stiff from sitting so long. “What do you mean?” “Did you see the silver light, boy?” “Everyone saw it.” The memory hurt. Sera kneeling there, her power pouring out of her like a broken dam. Her eyes had been pure silver. Not the primal wolf-gold she used to have, not human. Something ancient, terrifying, and beautiful. Too weak. I had called her too weak. The Moon Goddess must be laughing.