Master Of Mountain Novels & Stories

Amelia didn't pay attention to their gossip and looked straight at the little cultivator: "Who is Master Cloudwalker to you?" The cultivator was stunned for a moment: "Master Cloudwalker was my master's master, I didn't expect you had actually heard my grandmaster's name." He thought Amelia admired Dragon Lake Mountain and wanted to be Master Cloudwalker's student, so he went on, "I get it. If you want to join Dragon Lake Mountain, it's not impossible. My grandmaster is definitely out of reach, but I can take you as my student. That way, you might get to meet my grandmaster in the future."

Suddenly, no one knew who, but someone mentioned: "There's half a month before the Master's birthday! I wonder if he'll return to Snow Mountain or stay in paradise city?" "The Master is turning thirty?" Lyra was a little surprised to hear. There was still more than half a month before her twenty-sixth birthday too. "Must the Master return to Snow Mountain right? I heard he likes it a lot there. Unfortunately, his grandmother chose him to inherit the werewolf clan." "That's right, I've been to queen Courtyard for so long but haven't seen the Master have any pure human friends." "He basically grew up in the human world right? But it seems he hasn't integrated in. He doesn't like human electron

The master was eloquent, looking at the green mountain outside the door. Cora seemed half-understood, "Master, I seem to understand a little, but I still don't understand."

Master was a perfectionist in everything he did even down to the mode of torture he uses when somebody annoy him too much to warrant a slow death. Every recruit of the resistance watched Master's means of torture as an indoctrination ceremony so that they will know that will happen to them if they decide to betray the resistance. The kidnapper had watched someone who displeased the Master got dragged into the compound half-dead by the guard which was always with the Master's best friend who was a female.

David put a full stop to his master’s following sentence. The old master, Black, looked at David angrily, but it didn’t affect David much because he knew even though this older man could sometimes be very irritable, he would respect his decision. Who knew his judgment about his master would be proven wrong? David walked around the mountain and saw the improvement over the years, but even he didn’t want to admit, without a leader, This mountain could not stay as his master wanted to keep it; it would be in grave danger. Enemies always lurked around this mountain; their minds were not sharp and cunning enough to match up with their master; their master was above anyone’s thought, and that’s wh

The master is such a meanie and then I suddenly remembered the masters smile,maybe he's not that bad, my body hurts but it made me smile. I want to see him smile again. The master really has a lot of work to do I thought he doesn't do anything more than ordering people around but he does paper work all day. That's very impressive of him.

All of them were equally amazed watching two of their masters sparring in the arena. One of those two masters swung his sword down hard. He smirked when his opponent withstood the blow with her own sword. The impact was so strong that sparks flew from the collided metal. "Come on, Lulu. Tired already?" he asked, teasing. Even when he himself was panting lightly. The man was Rion Ren, one of the masters from Liebu Mountain. He was strong and his moves were fast and agile. Many people had tried to challenge him, but very few could match his power. And even fewer who were able to defeat him.

Women definitely watched him with hungry eyes full of need and desire but it takes more than a pretty face to catch his attention. People often made the mistake of believing Dominance was loud. Master Steele proved otherwise. His authority lived in restraint. In patience. In the dangerous calm behind His silver eyes. To those privileged enough to know Him, He was a Master in every sense of the word — respected, feared, desired. A man who understood the intricate dance between control and trust better than most understood themselves. BDSM was not a hobby to Him. It was culture. Psychology. Ritual. Art. And Fantasy was His masterpiece.

One moment, he is enjoying a good fuck from an Alpha, and the next moment—here he is, trying his best not to skin himself alive. There are voices inside his head that are way louder than his own voice. Those voices keep on reminding him that he is an Omega—just an Omega. The lowest of the lowest. The ‘thing’ who’s only goal in life is to be played by those fucking Alphas. A nothing. A sudden crawl of goosebumps invaded his whole body. He can literally feel how hard his heart is hammering inside his chest. He called Cross ‘master’. Master. He looks at his reflection once again and laughs hysterically.