Little Ghost Hollow Knight Novels & Stories

Somebody must be playing tricks with me. He continued to move, step by step. When, suddenly, everything disappeared. Once more he finds himself in darkness all-gripping. A knight appeared from the darkness. His sword shines in the darkness. Hjolt moves a step back. He takes out Uthar, the blade shines in a bright light. The knight strikes, his sword misses. He tries again, still the same result. Hjolt strikes, the sword slides down the knight's shoulder. He moves a step. Hjolt charges again, strikes. The knight falls to the ground. Hjolt was ready to strike the finishing blow. The knight disappeared like he was made out of fog. Hjolt turned everywhere. "Excellent," a melodic voice said from

I need to hurry. As I was barely on time, I was running towards the lift and suddenly I bumped into a hard wall. Wait... wall doesn't wear suits, do they? I just look upward, from seeing the suit and the material I felt, I can tell it must have worth a fortune and the logo on the pocket confirmed it for me. I slowly looked up and saw the greyest eyes I have ever seen in my life... They are staring at me with rage...'what have I done?' and who is this man with so beautiful grey eyes? I was staring and he was getting angrier. I should apologize before he turns into a grey hulk. So I quickly said what I can.

“We fight.” Kelvin stared at me, shocked. My eyes were glowing silver. “We can’t outrun this forever,” I said. “If I’m the Ghost Wolf, then let me be one.” We stepped into the tunnel as the ground began to shake. Shadows poured in from both sides—cloaked figures, each holding long silver daggers glowing with cursed energy. Flame Hunters. One of them raised a horn to his lips and blew. The sound wasn’t loud, but it cracked the air like lightning.

I walked past a gauntlet that crackled with electricity. Then, I stopped. In the back of the room, almost hidden behind a display of ceremonial daggers, was a simple, vertical case. Inside was a sword. It wasn't gold. It wasn't diamond. It was made of a pale, translucent metal that looked like frozen smoke. The hilt was wrapped in gray leather, worn smooth by use. It didn't hum. It didn't glow. It just sat there, looking dangerously quiet. "Ah," Kaelen said, coming up beside me. "The Ghostblade. Or, as the Old Poets called it, Silentium."

In fact, they were nowhere in sight. The colorful steam blew away, as if dismissed by magic, and Celestina saw the massive creature step out from the mangroves moor. Indeed they weren't human. A gigantic dark goblin creature from the underworld. They were the church dark knights, rumors about the secret order of knights tend to a fact indeed, which had sold their souls to the devil. So it's true then she thought.

At the altar sat a sealed obsidian vessel, faintly glowing red—the Blood of the Ashen Saint. As Bain and Seraphina approached, the ground trembled. With a sudden crack, humanoid figures burst from beneath the floorboards. Twisted, eyeless, and stitched together from fragments of failed Hollow experiments — failed children, abandoned vessels. “They’re Hollow Shells!” Elias shouted. Sokolov drew his twin blades while Vulture blasted one straight through the chest, sending it skidding across the stone. “They’re trying to stall us!” Seraphina cried. “They know we’re close!”

The Verdant Hollow’s core hums beneath my feet, a subterranean chamber where golden-green energy threads converge into a pulsing nexus, the sanctuary’s heart. The air is thick with primal magic, stirring my crescent mark into a steady burn. I move cautiously, my new sight scanning for the keystone the mysterious lunar-eyed figure warned me about—a relic Voren planted to drain the Hollow’s wards. The whisper from the Lunar Well chamber, The bridge will break, echoes in my mind, urging me forward despite the gnawing suspicion that I’m walking into a trap.

He lunged for the bathroom to make himself throw up, but a sharp, searing pain had already erupted in his gut. "You crazy—" He gasped, barely forcing the words out. But Adeline just kept smiling—a cold, empty smile. She picked up the fruit knife from the coffee table and plunged it into his chest. Over and over. "Anyone who toys with a true heart deserves to die." When her strength gave out, she collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Dark, blood-red liquid spilled from her lips as she opened her mouth. Then she fell still. Her eyes stayed open, staring at nothing.

Leon panted, scanning the dim corridor as his breath came in uneven bursts. Suddenly, a faint figure emerged out of the shadows—the female ghost. Her face was blurred and indistinct, her presence otherworldly. She didn’t speak but raised a hand that glowed faintly blue, pointing silently in a specific direction. Leon froze, instinctively stepping back half a pace. But time was slipping through his fingers, and hesitation was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to follow the ghost’s lead.

He said while moving towards me , i started moving backwards because i didn't want him to get too close to me. "What do you want from me ?" I asked. "Wow nice question, i just want to replace you" he said and then he disappeared, i looked around but i didn't see him, i remembered that Mr Franklin said he was a ghost. "But why me?" I asked, although he was not visible but i knew he was around. "Because i am you" he said and appeared in my back. "I swear to God i will shut you off" i said in anger. "Are you crazy , you can't kill a ghost boy!" He yelled and laughed.