Krogan Without Armor Novels & Stories

The groyals were way more numerous than the rogues that attacked earlier today. The other warriors lunged and shifted midair. Attack those monsters in a blur of movement until I couldn't even tell who had the upper hand. But when the bodies started dropping one by one, I let out a huge sigh of relief, seeing that the dead bodies were wolves who were completely torn apart and already covered in scars. Not the bodies of Carlo's warriors. A groyals spots me, and it lunges in my direction. I held my breath. A warrior blocked its attack, and I immediately used that momentum to drag myself away.

He wore full tactical armor, his face grim. ‎ ‎The Rogues tensed, hands drifting to weapons. They were used to seeing Crescent Moon colors only through the scope of a rifle. ‎ ‎Kaelen stepped forward to meet him. ‎ ‎The two Alphas stood face to face. The King of the Scraps and the Lord of Tradition. ‎ ‎Loine looked at the small, dirty band of Rogues. Then he looked at Kaelen. ‎ ‎"You survived the city," Loine noted. ‎ ‎"We broke the city," Kaelen corrected.

A chorus of snarls and growls followed as the guards half-shifted and launched into the night, blurs of speed and shadows. “Lucien,” I spoke through the mind-link as we ran. “Give me a sitrep.” “Twelve rogues, my king. No crest. No allegiance.” I arrived at the granary and saw the destruction for myself. The scent of wolf blood was thick in the air. Strong. They were powerful, experienced. Not your usual scattered rogues. We tracked them quickly—straight into an ambush. Group A was already engaged in battle when I arrived. Without hesitation, I joined the fray.

A deep growl rumbled from Kieran’s chest. “Stay close to me,” he muttered. I gripped the dagger tighter. My fingers were sweaty, but I forced myself to hold firm. If I wanted to survive in this world, I had to learn how to fight. The rogues emerged from the trees, looking filthier than i expected. Their fur was matted with dirt and dried blood. Their yellow eyes glowed with hunger. Hunger for fresh wolf blood and meat. “Be repentant,” Kieran said, not even trying to make them change their minds.

Weapons, armor, food, and various supplies lined various shelves all along the walls. Every single Drogar in the hall wore blood red robes and incredibly angry faces. Among them was a female Drogar, a little taller and more muscular than all the others. She too had the same robes, but hers was hooded. Mostly to hide her alabaster scales and sensitive pink eyes from everything else around her. An elderly Drogar entered the room and shook his head when he saw them all watching an arena fight. “Colviss,” he said. “You shouldn't be watching that. You didn’t get Reborn Anew just so you could rot your brain on ‘Cast trash.”

armor worn by Hakon and Ranek. Others wore undecorated copper skulls covered in blood-red armor, but the design was eerily similar to gray male armor. In the cold light of the pale white sunlight, men in gray robes fought men in red. Ragnar saw him sitting on a pile of corpses. His protected head rolled off his feet. His limbs creaked under his boots. He was wearing gray armor and he could tell it was torn in several places. He carried one of the strange magical swords that Haakon always carried in both hands. One stopped working. His face was broken and his teeth were cracked. The other worked non-stop, trembling in his hands, surviving for a while, then stopping as if the spell that had c

he added as he stood with his Creations that had finished the last of the meat. “The creatures are hungry, aren’t they? I’m sure they’d like some meat.” “That does sound good” Cosmo noted then promptly left, with them close behind. We wasted no time and all marched down the stairs. Eagle opened the door to Soul Stealers running around; with fully armed people swarming inside. They all wore matching bright white armour with full-faced helmets. I could only see their eyes as they scanned the area around them. They all had shotguns strapped to their backs and strange guns hooked to their left arms, a tangle of wires embedded through the armour.

He said, his eyes locked on the rogue, “But a good warrior doesn’t abandon his team. A real warrior dies with honor, not in cowardice.” The rogue’s eyes widened in terror as Alpha Czar lifted his hand, his claws slowly elongating, turning into deadly weapons. The rogue barely had time to comprehend what was happening before he struck. With lightning speed, Alpha Czar’s claws slashed through the rogue’s neck, severing veins and spilling blood onto the floor. The rogue gasped for breath, his hands flying to his throat, but it was too late. He collapsed in a lifeless heap at his Alpha's feet.

In the end, the humiliation that they felt was replaced by immense rage. “No matter what happens today, I will take away the Cooter Armor! Whoever obstructs my path must die!” Grenn let out a resounding roar. Waves of billowing dark air burst out of his body. At the same time, those behind him also let loose of their strong, explosive auras on the spot, as they glared at their opponents aggressively. Vulcan let out a low growl when he saw this. When he raised his arms, the clothes on his body exploded, revealing the iron armor inside. He looked the same as an android warrior.

They emerged onto a grated balcony overlooking a massive, sunken concrete combat pit. Down in the sand, the fight had just ended. Standing victorious over the twitching, sparked-out remains of a heavy combat cyborg was a woman who looked like she had been forged in a volcano. She was a Kroltan—standing nearly seven feet tall, her skin a deep, hardened crimson laced with natural, jagged bio-armor plating. She dropped a massive, blood-stained kinetic hammer onto the sand, raising her heavily scarred arms as the crowd screamed her name.