Master Of The Dark Arts Novels & Stories

He performed slow, agonizingly controlled movements—calisthenics designed to build the kind of strength that doesn't show in a mirror, but manifests in a struggle. As he moved, he recited his misanthropic litany. He visualized the people he hated—the "parasites" in the grocery stores, the "actors" in the boardrooms, the "critics" on the podcasts. He felt his disdain harden into a physical shield. He wasn't just preparing to kill a family; he was preparing to excise a tumor from his own reality. He saw the Sterlings and the Sorgentones as the peak of a mountain of garbage. If he could pull the peak down, the rest would follow.

Denn thought for a while and said, “Alfredo, go get me Master Rondo.” The hunched old man behind him immediately left, and when he returned, there was a 50-year-old middle-aged man with him. The man was Master Rondo. Master Rondo said, “Greetings, Mr. Denn.” Mr. Denn offered him a smile and said, “Master Rondo, I remember that you can destroy someone's soul from a distance and kill them without actually touching them, right?” Master Rondo replied proudly, “Although no one in my school has ever formed the lightsoul and darksoul before, practicing the secret art can strengthen our mind.”

"If what I do as a slave is not cheating on him, then what he does as a Master can't be cheating either. Slave Master's frequently have more than one slave. Mistress Dark believes slaves should compete for the affections of their Master. It ensures they both strive to be more pleasing. But more than that, I knew how much Master valued fidelity, how hurt he would be if I were unfaithful. For him to allow me this fantasy and all it entailed was a supreme act of love. If he could love me so much, could I do less for him?" "It's all quite noble, I'm sure. It doesn't ease the pain of seeing him fuck someone else, does it? And who's Mistress Dark?" Julia took Lisa's hand. "Do I feel some particle

The tightness made her already pale hand even paler as she gently sipped and grimaced. Mumbled phrases and blessings tumbled quickly from her mouth. Switching into a variety of languages all of us seemed to hold our breath as Madeline seemed to grow in stature. From the frail, stiff old reed we knew her as, the strength in her words gave her an aura of power. She truly was a master of the Dark Arts. The dark mahogany of the room only added to the atmosphere. The morning light was filtered through grimy grey clouds, murky fog rolled past the windows as somehow a coughing and spluttering noise emerged from the timid frame in front of us.

Bright Moon Immortal interrupted him and shouted, "Master must have just wanted to dissolve your dark power. He did it for your sake..." "Shut up!" the fire artificer shouted. "For my sake? He suppressed my power and didn't impart true Immortal Tao techniques to me! He did everything in his power to torment me! And he sealed the power I was born with. He did all of that for my sake? I DON'T WANT THAT!" He seemed to have recalled the past, and he looked extremely furious. "Master just didn't want you to fall into darkness forever. You should know that Master..." Bright Moon Immortal still wanted to say something.

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.

I always thought master was to handsome for this world, but now… I couldn’t help but think he is to handsome to even be a Greek God. I guess I really did invest my time making him one hell of a handsome character. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Master asked snapping his finger. I got snapped out of my thoughts, blinking my eyes rapidly. I coughed out embarrassed… “I wasn’t staring at you.” I lied through my teeth, staring at the portrait hanging loosely on the wall, behind my master. “That’s a lie, I caught you staring slave. Tell me what it is? Don’t you dare lie to your master.” He shakes his head pouting. Now he looks cute.

“You think this is about your so-called art? You don’t know what real art is. I didn’t even mind. I liked you anyway. I could have taught you. I didn’t plan it like this. But you chose him.” She couldn’t think. She was too scared for her brain to work. “You shouldn’t have dug up Sullivan,” he told her, his voice hard and filled with hate. Her mind spun to process that, her throat tightening as she made sense of it at last. “You’re Brady Blackwell?” “I’m the Master,” he snapped at her. “Someday, they’ll all know that. Someday, when nobody even remembers your name, my art will be worshipped.” “Let Maddie go. Please,” she begged. “She’s just a child.”

So, that was good. “We didn’t break any rules?” I asked him. The creature to his left, an octopus-headed thing squatting on frog legs, leaned forward. The tentacles hanging from its face rippled as its voice gurgled out. “What is ‘rules’?” If it was a free for all then maybe stopping time wasn’t cheating, either. “My son, on the verge of becoming the Grand Master.” He seemed almost tearful at the prospect. I mean, he wasn’t, he was terrifyingly malevolent, but almost. “Now we will see if he is truly worthy of the mantle of Darkholme.”