Modern Knight Novels & Stories

I closed my eyes when I got in the shower. I can see my nerd, I mean that nerd I bumped into today. But I am kind of curious why she didn’t fall to her knees for me. She did smile at first, then I had to open my big fat mouth and ruin it. God, she is going to be a pain in the ass. I can tell. But then I had an awful idea. Maybe I don’t have to stay away from her. Maybe I can tease and make her life a living hell while she is in my kingdom. If it is so bad for her. Maybe she will leave on her own. But what if I can’t get her to leave? Then I will make her bow down to me. Then she won’t like the outcome when it comes down to that. I will make it so bad for her. No one tells the Knight’s off a

I extend my hand and pluck out a box of tea with a vivid painting of a ballroom and nobility from the regency era. The labeling states Royal British Earl Grey. Oooh, Interesting! I'd like to try this sometime. Placing it back, my eyes drift to a box with a painting of a silver dragon soaring over an emerald European countryside. A determined-looking medieval knight clad in armor sits atop the dragon's neck. The Knights' dark blue surcoat whipped in the wind behind him, a blue Christian Cross in the middle of his doublet. Sword raised in one hand while in the other a shield covered with the same Cross. Tufts of his blonde hair escape through his open helmet.

But there was also a hint of vague savageness, characteristic of the Vikings or dark age Templars. Regarding my aim, I was not a sniper, but I was good enough to hit a target a couple of hundred meters away. "That leaves no questions. Now, take this" The knight gave me a medal. A Fenix was rising its fly into the sky as the symbol. "If things get nasty, show this to the guards, they'll let you go without a sound" "Understood" Both the knight and I went to where our mounts were. Lines of well-cared drakes filled my sight as we walked through the stables.

The witches did, but that's a whole other can of worms to be opened another day. But most importantly, the face of the company. Who could forget them? The knights. When you think hunter, those huge brick for brain idiots in black and silver was what came to mind. The knights went to war and did all the physical aspect of a hunters' job and were the only ones who did any actual regular fighting. During Kostov's time, they were all there was to the hunters. Until Stravos became their leader and gave them a more definitive structure.

“I’m just trying to help. I’m not here to steal you, sell you, or do anything you don’t want.” “I don’t trust red-haired witches,” the gnome growls. “Neither do I, mate,” Caleb agrees. Jackass. “I could take you back to Hell and release you wherever you want,” I suggest. “Or somewhere on Earth?” “I am Knight and I do not need a commoner’s help,” he tells me, holding his head high for a second, then it drops with his expression. He seems sad. “I may not have any family left, or royals to serve, but I am still a knight who is destined to fight for justice.”

He sat in the pew opposite mine, refusing to accompany my entourage under our private umbrella. The jousters, with lances in hand, charged forth, their steeds aflight. Their armor glinting, like stars, in the sunlight's radiant light. The crash of wood, the thunder of hooves, the crowd's ecstatic roar. As the knights clashed, their valor and prowess, forever to adore by the crowd. In this fleeting moment, the weight of tradition, and the fire of desire, to see these noble knights, their honor, and their hearts, set on high, like a burning pyre. For in this medieval spectacle, we found a glimpse of chivalry's golden age. What was supposed to be a testament to courage, loyalty, and the unyield

The fight has already begun. Nate sharply evades a deadly blow from his opponent, a massive muscular guy who looks like a grim tattoo drawboard with so many black tattoos coating almost the entire skin of his back and running down his fighting arms. The overhead lights illuminating the fighting ring spread and shine on the guy's sweaty back, and I gulp in a tainted breath of air immediately my eyes catch a swift image of a particular single tattoo on his back bearing only one name. Killer. And his sculpted, thuggy body frame and face really makes him look like one.

Regards, Kaizen Knight]

The two of us took a step back, avoiding the raging creature before knights turned their attention to attacking us once again, protecting the lion who kept his eyes on Elijah. The man’s body rose to the air, freezing completely as if turning to stone before that stone exploded. My heart raced against my chest as the key landed around the lion’s neck once again. Natalia’s hands shook as she looked at the ‘stone’ that broke before it turned to a knight, one like the others who had their swords extended toward us, ready to attack. “These knights are all people who died?” Natalia asked, “these games did not just start now.” “They have been going on for centuries, dimwit.” Riya said, glaring dagg