Master Of The Dark Arts Novels & Stories

"I don't know, but it's what Sarnus left on my arm with the bones from his wings before he died." I answered truthfully. "Why didn't you tell me?" Noah tensed up at once, and his breath began to catch. "What's wrong with that? I just thought he wouldn't hurt me, so ......" I explained to Noah that I trusted Sarnus. "This is one of the oldest secret arts of the blood race, what it does is return the half of your life that belongs to me to me and it will be when you are at your weakest, if you are a blood race there is still a chance you will survive, but a human ...... will die."

His tone suggested that Adrian’s efforts were laughable, and he was determined to make Adrian pay for opposing him. Adrian countered, “Even with three puppets, it doesn’t guarantee your victory.” The puppets roared, their skin bursting and blood flowing, causing shock among the crowd. “That's disgusting!” “What kind of secret art is this?” An elderly man in green robes spoke up, “This is an ancient dark art that harnesses the formidable force of hell using one's own power. It can make the user’s strength even more terrifying. I didn’t expect Oscar to master such a technique. He’s using the puppets’ flesh and blood to avoid the recoil.”

Rowan's scream was the last thing I heard. But as my eyes began to close, I saw something impossible. The Master wasn't smiling anymore. He was looking at his own hands. They were turning into gray ash. "No," the master gasped. "The contract... I didn't finish the harvest!" A voice came from the shadows behind him a voice that sounded like a thousand shifting leaves. "The time is up, Architect. You failed the Master." A man in a white suit stepped out of the dark. He looked exactly like the Architect and exactly like the Master. He looked at me, then at Leo.

To the instrument that he never knew then, the struggle and hardship he endures to be the master of the craft, his master and teacher’s way, and words bore deep unto his mind, with its first lesson that says. “Learning the art of war does not mean that you will have to take a sword or be the master of your mana, but there is something more than that. A thing you can do that is outside that system as spells and witchcraft are not the only ones that can manipulate and control a person’s mind. Music is powerful as a few can master it. Now remember, to play the game everyone is playing, you need to be someone they can be afraid of, to protect the one you care about more than anything or anyone,

Each stroke and wave of his fingers denoted artistry that one simply had to see in order to believe. It was the most hypnotic scene each and everyone of them had ever experienced in their long decorated career of blood and survival. "You’re welcome, Master.” old man Howard whispered but his eyes did not break contact at the spectacular scene before them. Of course he had seen magic, trickery and sorcery all combined into one and he’d only seen it done by the boy in their midst. A perfect example for this was how Master Tristan could light his body up in oozing magnificent colors at his will.

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.

Zang roared out in anger and flung a blast of energy towards me. It was the deadly stream of intense Dark Arts Energy which could kill anyone except for a Master of Dark Arts. “Wrong move, motherfucker,” I smugged and stood straight as the blast of energy flared towards me. I imbibed the energy completely into my body and let it seep through my veins and blood. “NOOOOOO,” Zang yelled in horror. “Yes Zang. You couldn't feel it, right ? Wrong move, stupid wolf. I AM THE MASTER OF THE DARK ARTS !” I announced and delivered the last fatal blow as I punched into the ground causing waves of seismic energy dance around Zang.

Chapter five The car halted at the front of the warehouse, a bouncer came out of the car and open the door for his boss to come out Austin Hernandez came out, as good-looking as he is, with those flawless muscles, those perfect lips, and a seductive body He has a demon in him, it's no little monster, the monster is bigger than anyone could imagine He looks furious and angered, for the past three days he has been trying to capture the mule…he always knows that there has always been a burro among his men And now, the mule has been taken hold of, this mule has killed many of his men, but it all ceases today Nobody tangles with him and stays alive, he slaughters without clemency and has no guilt

Zorean roared as he threw the indestructible Dark Arts ‘Wheel of Death’ towards me. However, I was not called the Grand Master of the Dark Arts for no reason and as the volume of the song systems amplified further, I jumped up high and shouted, “DARK ARTS NET OF CAPTURE !!!” while flipping over the Death Wheel which soon after, changed its course to follow me.

Jumping off the bridge, I got into my training mode and since, I was not 18 years old yet, I could not shift. Hence, I had been training my human form to get on par with the strongest of the warriors while working upon my skills on Dark Arts. Yes. Dark Arts. The Dark Overlord had to be defeated and killed in his own game and not to toot my own horn but I was surprisingly a natural Master of the Dark Arts. After a satisfactory session near the waterfalls, I traced back my path to my dorm and leaped back my way to the window to evade the security personnel at the reception.