Light Armor Trainer Oblivion Novels & Stories

We were all equally baffled. “You guys saw that, right?” Brantley asked. “Yep,” we confirmed. Pixie giggled. “Because this is where we train outside, there’s a shield protecting us. People outside the shield see an empty court, while those inside see, well this.” “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of pointing out just how awesome Erea is,” Dove commented. “Wait until you see the weapons we’re training with.” Just like back at the training room with Eagan, there was an instructor waiting for us. He’s quite a big man, and he has a massive scar running down his arm. We learnt that his name is Abel.

Its silver blade caught the first light of dawn. "For the kingdom." His voice carried across the valley. "For our future." Thousands of weapons rose into the air. A deafening roar answered him. Behind the front lines, Aurelia tightened the straps of her leather armor. It was lighter than royal battle gear, designed for movement rather than ceremony. Silver threads woven into the dark fabric shimmered faintly, recognizing the blood that flowed through her veins. She stared toward the battlefield. Thousands of lives. Thousands of choices. Thousands who would never return home. Lucian approached quietly.

The name wasn't roared but it possessed a terrifying carrying power, cutting through the mountain air like a whip crack. Down in the gorge, a massive heavily scarred lieutenant emerged from the shadow of a boulder. Torin looked up toward the ledge, his face barely visible beneath his tactical hood and slammed a heavy armored fist against his chest in a crisp salute. "The traps are set, Commander! The nets are live!" Torin called back, his voice tight with anticipation. "We’ve anchored the kinetic dampeners into the bedrock. If those haulers hit the mesh at sixty miles an hour, they won't even scratch the paint, they'll just drop dead."

another voice calmly replied. "Becoming a king in the Lone Light is not about favoritism. It's a meritocracy at its core. You have to reach a certain level—take down a certain number of targets." Lugh Quigley entered. He was serious, and one glance conveyed his practical nature. Despite being in his 50s, he had no wrinkles or beard, and his eyes gleamed dangerously. "Tristan was one of the earliest members of the Lone Light. He came before Dijkstra Thorpe and was his closest friend. He started martial arts at the age of 3, and when his talent for sword-fighting emerged, he began training as a swordmaster.

Those two weeks I spent training with Octavia, and she didn’t go easy on me at all, but I tried my best to fight back even when, most of the time, she kicked my ass. It’s not like I can win against her; if I do, that means she allowed me to win. But if I can last a lot of minutes with Octavia, I should be able to kill some monsters and also fight with Alma if needed. I adjust my amour, looking at myself through the glass in front of me. I made a new armor that looks like the one Asher made for me. I packed my hair in a tight bun, and my weapons were ready. Octavia is wearing her signature amour, and she is so excited to kick some ass. Anything war. She is always ready, and Silver just wants

The guards followed silently behind us, along with my ever-watchful Beta. Once inside, I changed into my training gear: a sleeveless black tunic that hugged my torso, paired with dark leather trousers reinforced with subtle armored panels at the thighs and knees. My boots were laced tightly and strapped with silver-buckled guards, worn from years of training but still sturdy. A leather wrist guard wrapped around my left arm, while my right bore the mark of the Alpha the symbol of leadership and strength. Sylvia smiled approvingly as we stepped out, and together we walked toward the training ground, unaware of the quiet ache growing in my chest—one that whispered a name I hadn’t seen all day.

I say. He rewinds it, playing it slower, frame by frame. “Go after the impact.” I say, the truck pulls away, fast Like nothing happened. “Enhance it,” the hacker's fingers move quickly. Image sharpens, and then details become clearer, and the truck model becomes clearer. “That's a Collins - series Obsidian,” he mutters, "I know that. “ Military-grade reinforcement.” I lean forward slightly, eyes narrowing, “How many exist?” “Fifty, maybe less , all the registered,”

"But they are coming for a world that is no longer prey. You are the Shield! You are the Architect! Stand your ground!" On the ground, the war began before the first star could blink. Nevan stood at the head of the "Iron Vanguard"—a legion of human soldiers I had spent three years training in the shadows. They didn't have high-tech exoskeletons. They had armor forged from the scrap of the old world, etched with Leo’s silver-wire runes. They carried blades that hummed with the "Quiet." The sky above Moscow tore open.

I had always been obedient. Whatever people told me to do, I did without question. When my wealthy biological parents finally brought me home, my adopted sister leaned close and whispered arrogantly, "I'm the one and only Saunders daughter. If you know what's good for you, leave on your own!" I obediently nodded. Then I turned around and ran straight into the traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. They scrambled out of the car and dragged me back, their faces already pale with terror. My brother glared at me and warned in a low voice, "If you keep acting like this, I'll send you back to that hellhole." That night, I obediently locked myself inside a dog crate. When he fo

"Custom piece from the specialized gear unit. This side houses standard micro-rounds, but the other half is loaded with high-density tranquilizer darts. Flip the selector switch to the left, and whoever gets tagged sleeps like a rock for seventy-two hours straight. Flip it to the right... and they sleep indefinitely." He reached into the foam casing and lifted a heavy, brushed-titanium lighter, flicking the cap open with a sharp clack. "This little guy looks like a classic windproof lighter, but it’s actually a localized pressure explosive. Compact, completely non-magnetic, and packs enough force to take down a load-bearing wall if you set it right. And then, there’s this."