Lancer Artoria Pendragon Novels & Stories

Keiynan bravely said. Lord Daemon laughs very hard, and his disciples accompanied him. “I give my word. Let them –” “Shh,” Lord Daemon pushed the lady on the ground, and she quickly crawled back to her crying son. “I know you’re telling the truth but . . .” He repeatedly walks around in front of the captives. “Don’t you see?” He stopped at once to face Keiynan and Chen and the soldiers with them. “We are winning and I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine. This is my rightful place, and my disciples deserves to fest and bathe with these humans’ blood.”

He noticed it and said, “Grey of Dark Knight, 18. A black belter and master of martial arts. In charge of training new agents and expert in face to face fights. Aikon Advincula outside but just call me Aikon. I’m Stargazer’s bar tender and Polaris’s barista. Hope we can be friends.” “Ai.” JD-hyung muttered as he nodded and shook his hand. Then finally, he turned to Sean-hyung with a smile I can’t explain. Sean-hyung spoke. “Mist of Dark Knight, 18. Number one in handling arnis, chako and sword. The intelligence officer who has contacts anywhere you go. Sean Madrigal but call me Sean. Stargazer and Polaris’s cook.” He stopped and smiled. But instead of shaking his hand, JD-hyung pulled Sean-h

Caroline, a she-wolf who has been considered a monster since she was a child, can she break the tragedy spell and find her MATE?

As he watched Jrue pull Lora to him, he sat in the middle of the throne, FIVE YEARS AGOTyndale entered the castle, his gaze drawn to the magnificent art of architecture. He walked through the throne chamber, the tips of his fingertips scraping against the banquet table in the room's center. Charger, Raider, and Lancer, the three saints, trailed behind. Jrue Deryleen, his lieutenant, emerged from one end of the room as he approached the throne. He was wielding his dual blades, which he had wrapped around Lora's neck.

Surrounding the tree were three distinct pedestals, each adorned with symbols representing the trio – a flame for Aria, a sword for Caelum, and a crescent moon for Liora. Intrigued, Aria approached her pedestal, her hand instinctively reaching out to touch the flame symbol. The moment her fingers brushed against it, a blinding light enveloped the clearing. When it subsided, Aria, Caelum, and Liora found themselves separated, each standing in a different landscape, facing a mirror reflection of themselves. The reflections had a sinister aura, their eyes glowing an eerie red.

No matter how cold the weather was, he preferred being bare chested, always revealing the black to brown hairs on his chest. "I promise, someone will have to destroy you some day." The man let out a thunderous scornful laugh that echoed or several minutes after he stopped. "It's been three thousand years now, woman..." he said after everything had gone quiet, word by word and slowly accentuating "woman" with even scorn, and slowly began walking around the woman. "Oh, I'm sorry... Your Highness Sandra, hail the Excellent queen." He said, slightly bowing at the word 'your Highness.' "Who owns Arthmata now? Tell me!"

He replied. “What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped, feeling defensive and angry towards this man. “Ever liked dragons?” He asked, completely ignoring my question. “What has my likings, anything to do with this?!” I raised my voice at the ignorance he gave me. “It has everything to do with it.” He retorted back. “Excuse me?” “You, little human, belong in my realm now. You’re my mate.” He told me, “I am Tristan Slade, Prince of the Dragons.”

Boro and Mika stood in the sand circle as the two finalists. The animosity between the two was so thick in the air it was almost palpable. Boro stood in the ready form, Crane In The Water, standing perfectly balanced on one leg, his sword held out before him. Mika stood in a form that Boro didn't recognize. Boro prided himself on knowing all the forms of classical, and modern, sword art, the fact he didn't recognize this one was puzzling.

Biadet was standing on the dragon’s head again. “Hello, Princess. It’s been a long time.” “Yes. Too long.” Laney drew her sword. “And now it ends.” “I don’t have a weapon,” said Biadet. Laney looked at the larger of the two men. “Roland, give her a weapon.” He seemed surprised by the request. He looked at his companion, who just shrugged. Roland tossed his axe, which was about the same size as Biadet, and it rotated end over end as it flew towards her as the dragon brought her down. She caught it one handed.

They had made it out of the confines of the academy, and now they were facing the silent, but deadly, streets of Norta, Artharia’s capital city. Grinning up at him, her eyes were daggers against the late summer night. The words were smooth: “I am half tempted to break your arm, Andrew Lancashire.” The boy’s arm tightened around her as if she had whispered a sweet nothing into his ear. He had learned how to push the lady's buttons, and unlike the rest of the academy, she didn’t scare him. The cloaked figure passed close to Andrew’s side, her gaze peeking past the boy, watching the possible foe. The knight kept his gaze on her, waiting to see if the stranger meant them harm. It was far easier