Monarch Of Iron Body の小説・ストーリー

He was a top-tier expert at the peak of the Aureate Immortal stage. It was said that he was just a step away from reaching the divine tribulation and was even able to temporarily use the ninth sense when using secret arts. In one battle, he single-handedly fought three late-stage Fiend Monarchs, killing one and forcing the other two to flee, earning him unmatched fame. That battle happened in Valerion Gorge, so he became known as the Valerion Immortal Monarch. He was so powerful because of the immortal blood inside his body.

His posture radiated authority, and the energy around him seemed to pulse with raw power. He walked to the center of the training ground. All eyes turned to him. “Warriors.” Silence fell instantly. The soldiers lifted their heads, attentive. “This is Airys Monveil, a human, a slave purchased by our Lycan king.” Each word was spoken with calculated weight. The emphasis on “slave” made me clench my fists tightly, biting my tongue to hold back the curse that wanted to escape. The stares around me intensified. Malicious smiles appeared on some of the warriors’ faces, and an unpleasant shiver ran down my spine.

a voice rasped. It wasn't a human voice. It was a mechanical, harmonic vibration that shook the very foundations of the smelting vats. The Iron Hook sat behind a desk fashioned from the jagged, turbine-blade wreckage of a downed Council drone. His entire right side was a forest of pneumatic hydraulics, his shoulder an exposed nest of copper wiring that hissed rhythmically, keeping time with the city’s heart. He was the monopoly of Iron Ridge, a man who had traded his marrow for a seat at the table of scavengers.

They were haggard, their skin pale and sallow from a lack of Sombra-vitamins, their eyes darting with the frantic energy of the "Old Human." In the center of the group stood a man in a bulky, hydraulic exoskeleton. It was a crude piece of machinery, powered by a rack of lead-acid batteries that hummed with a different, more mechanical frequency. This was Cassian Ares, the son of Julianna, the "Iron King" of the tunnels.

“Iron. The one weakness of the all so mighty Fae. The mother made the world with balance. For every great power is a check and for the immortality and magic of the Fae—it’s Iron,” “And it’s in your very blood,” “Yes it is,” The queen smiled. “The iron in our blood keeps us sane and prevents our magic from burning us up. But any more than that—we fall. Iron is our weakness just like—-“ “Silver and wolfsbane is ours,” I completed. Listing the two dreaded weapons to use against a werewolf. “Correct. They didn’t just bind me in iron, they injected liquid iron into my body. Wrapped me in a dress made from sheets of iron. Put it in my hair, in my ears on my fingers in forms of rings as necklaces…i

The monarch and his wife jumped into the arena. “Who are you, and why are you doing this?” The monarch asked with a stern tone. “For over a thousand years, I've searched for a body worthy of my gloriousness to punish this filthy world for existing. My name is Sabbath, the ill-born of the moon goddess,” Mary's body spoke. “Well, Sabbath, your time has finally come. You shall die at my ha-” Before the monarch could finish his sentence, both he and his wife's heads were cut off instantly by a swing of Sabbath's left index finger.

He knew that Ashlyn’s body won’t heal quickly already that’s why he could go on making her wounds deep. “Of course. But I easily understand when someone could feel the same.” Ashlyn sarcastically responded as she sighed seeing another painful weapon that will hit her body. She’s going to bleed out later. “Oh, the man who was always around you? Hm, what’s his name again, oh, it's Vladimir Milano. Don’t you think I didn’t know as well that he’s a nomad for killing his entire family? His the blood prince that we’re looking for and you’re the key to giving it to us.” Tosh began to hit her with his chosen torturing weapon. Ashlyn started to scream in pain because of the reaping of her skin with t

In agonizing pain, Iron bath replied, "You're a minion of the evil sorcerer, I can smell nothing but his filth on you. You have no goodness left in your tainted soul. You should beg for mercy but it would be a futile attempt because I won't spare you!" As he spoke the moon shone brightly in the night sky bathing the fortress in her radiant light. Iron bath's eyes turned a brilliant yellow like a wolf's and he looked up straight into the mage's eyes, "Who am I? I am Ikoko- the Iron werewolf. Fang of the Oracle and these eyes shall be the last thing your tainted soul shall behold", he said in a deep fears inducing voice as he began to transform and every bone in his body began to break. The ma

One of the last 20 Monarch Echelons Title : The Iron Wall ------ Rank 10 : Francis Decker Origin - God's Heritage Combat Style : Description : White Clan's current leader. Son of Arthur Collins. Title : Monarch's Bride …. …. …. … … … The list continued to drop until it reached the last 1000th rank. The entire globe, including hunters and expert martial artists, combed over the list to see whether there was anybody fascinating who made the cut. As mentioned by the alliance, this list may not be an exact representation of the toughest individuals, but it was a sorted classification of some kind. The entire globe wanted to know who Immortal Crawlers thought were the most intriguing, if not the

In this realm of monarchy, being young is a vulnerability, and there is no way I will allow them to take advantage of any of my flaws. At the foot of the steps, a glowing face abruptly stops me. My great-cousin Bella, who is completely straight and little, grins at me when she sees me. In fact, her entire body is, including her frame, lips, and nose. Her enormous blue eyes are the only thing that are large. It’s like staring straight into the calm of the tropical ocean.