Karma Grips Novels & Stories

He chanted: “I see the consciousness of the laws of nature. I am that consciousness.” The Kuji Kiri or the Nine Hand Seals was a set of mudras or hand signs. Originally developed by the mountain pilgrim monks of the Ethereal Nest, the Yamabushis, they served to purify Slayers under the raging torrent of a waterfall. By forming hand seals, Slayers were able to summon their ki (energy force) to perform any desired fighting technique. The particular hand seal that Sasha made gave him control of the elements of nature: the tides, the sea and all the creatures in it; big or small, known or unknown. A large stream of blue light emerged from his solar plexus and extended upwards.

The kampilan came in a horizontal sweep with his full Foundation output behind it — abandoning technique for raw power, the choice of someone who has decided that whatever is in front of them needs to simply stop existing. I dropped below the sweep and discharged upward through my right palm directly into the underside of his weapon arm at the elbow joint — targeting the meridian cluster there, the one that fed qi flow to the hand. The discharge was maximum compression. My palm split along three rupture lines. Blood hit the ground. Bago's hand opened. The kampilan fell. He stared at his own hand like it had betrayed him, which it had, technically — the meridian disruption at the elbow would

43 Alpha Knight released a husky growl as my fingers traced the contours of his six-pack abs. His magnificent physique left me utterly captivated by his allure. In an electrifying moment, he reclaimed my lips, gently nipping my lower lip as our gazes remained locked. One of my hands clenched his hair, sending shivers and sparks coursing through my core. I arched my back in response to his kisses trailing along my neck, igniting fiery sensations beneath my skin.

He pushed me away using all his strength and took the broken glass that was on the ground beside us. As a defense, I covered my face with my hands which resulted in a cut on my hand. As usual, no one came forward. It was my game, either kill him or die in his hands. I kicked him in his gut and then on his leg which made him lose his balance, which gave me the chance to snatch the glass piece. Wasting no time, I cut his throat and he fell dead. “Eight minutes,” Cornell said. “You should train harder. It should be below eight minutes next time.” He concluded and then left along with the guards.

I drop my center of gravity, planting my knees on either side of his narrow hips, letting my full weight pin him to the dirt. I catch his flailing wrists, his skin hot and slick with sweat, and slam them into the ground above his head. He struggles, a surge of pure, defiant Alpha energy, but it’s useless. I have him. I very much enjoy straddling his hips, holding his wrists locked in my fists, my forearm settling across the elegant line of his throat. He’s trapped. Completely and utterly overpowered. The entire training yard has gone dead silent. The only sounds are our ragged breathing and the frantic, rabbit-fast pulse I can feel hammering in Kieran’s wrists.

Kade walked directly to the center of the padded mats and gestured for me to stand directly in front of him. "We will start with the most common point of physical contact," Kade instructed. He reached out and wrapped his large right hand firmly around my left wrist. His grip was completely solid and entirely unyielding. "If a man grabs your wrist, his weakest point is the small gap between his thumb and his fingers. Do not pull your arm backward. Rotate your wrist toward his thumb and use your entire body weight to pull your arm free in a sharp, downward motion." I tried to pull my arm straight back toward my chest, but his grip did not loosen at all. I remembered his specific instructions.

The particular kind of grip that was not an accident or a reaction but a decision made in advance of the moment. I scratched at his face with everything I had, nails first, aiming for the eyes the way the trainer had been explicit about, and he pulled back enough that the grip loosened and I got one hand free and screamed. Not for help. Not a frightened sound. The kind of scream that was tactical, that was designed to be heard at distance, that the trainer had told me was a weapon in itself. I kicked him in the knee. He went sideways.

Even if it were a Mystical Ancestral God, he would be dead. However, when the attack was on James’ body, nothing happened. James smiled oddly. Raising his hand, he slapped Gutierre on the face. The main power of the slap was Karma, with the others as support. The powerful attack of the Karma Power landed on Gutierre’s body. Gutierre’s body was unrivaled and had already reached the Grand Emperor Rank’s Ninth Heaven. In addition, he was proficient in numerous Paths and could use the body of the countless Paths.

My grip slam him extremely hard against the tough door. He cries He screench and groan against the wall Well I care less My chocking grip around him tightens over second It continually drain every life force within him Well it'll drain his last life atom and drop him lifeless and dead if he airs no words Am never releasing my grip expect he commence explanation "What's your discovery?!" I snar He fumble with his words My grip tightens more My palm gradually morph into it's beastial form

Money, power, luxury, name, can't save from your karma because it's neither hungry for these nor scared from any of these. Karma is hungry for giving justice and scared of punishing innocents. The people who know it are wise and the one doesn't ruin their life. Ekiya's disappearance from Girik's life has disappeared everything from Girik's life. His sleep too, his eyes are dying for asleep but when close only Ekiya is what they dream about and when they opened only Ekiya is what they want to see.