Moonwatcher Wings Of Fire 소설 & 이야기

The wound closed instantly. "He regenerates!" Wesley exclaimed. The giant laughed. "You cannot kill fire." A wall of flames erupted around us. The heat became unbearable. My wolf stirred within me. "Moonfire," she whispered. "Use the Moonfire." I raised the Sword of Eclipse. Silver flames ignited along its blade. Unlike ordinary fire, the Moonfire felt cool and serene. I swung the sword. A crescent of silver fire tore through the blazing inferno. The General of Ash staggered backward as the Moonfire burned across his armor.

The Gammas and warriors shouted. “Fire attack!” Caspian growled, standing between me and the direction of the attack. His body was coiled, ready to launch. I clutched my stomach. “Moon Goddess, please… keep us safe.” Fire flared again between the trees. The compass rattled violently. I was not ready for this.

“Watch. Learn. Move with me. You are not alone.” Serenya exhaled shakily, letting Solana’s energy flow through her. The fear didn’t vanish, but it became a current she could ride instead of sink under. The Guardians struck. Koa lunged, teeth flashing in neon green, slamming toward her with lethal precision. Maggie’s wings unfurled above her, sending shockwaves of wind, claws slashing through the air. Athena circled low, swift and cunning. Nalia’s phoenix swooped in flames, feathers brushing sparks into her path. Isolde’s vampire form pressed forward with shadows that slithered like living darkness, eyes burning crimson.

It was a pathetic thought to realize that a werewolf as tough as Tenny would have hurt feelings. “Tenny, do you ever watch this Meal Network channel?” His question was followed by silence. He imagined that Tenny was trying to figure out where this conversation was headed with such a drastic change of conversation. “Uh, sometimes…” Tenny sounded puzzled. “Who is this tiny little blonde woman on here?” Santiago asked as he watched her adjust an apron around her waist and then smooth her hands down her abdomen and upper legs to press out the wrinkles. He was actually getting turned on while watching a cooking show. Perhaps he was the pathetic one and not Tenny.

"You’re the one who whispered to me in the dark when the Council was carving into my bones. You’re the 'Extinction' they were so afraid of." The figure—the Red-Winged Dante—stepped into the light. It was a perfect, terrifying blend of us. It had Dante’s lethal, massive frame and his predator’s stance, but from its spine erupted a pair of wings that were an exact, burning replica of mine. They weren't made of "Void-Lead" or "Obsidian-Gold." They were made of Primal Fire, a deep, arterial red that seemed to drink the light from the room.

Her horns curved back from her skull like polished ivory, long and elegant, though one had a fracture near the base. Her wings were massive, thin at the edges, scarred from battles no one in the palace even remembered, and when she spread them over the moonlit towers, the shadows of her wings covered the marble roofs like night itself had bowed to her. She did not look young. She did not look untouched. She looked ancient, wounded, proud, and alive, like a piece of the galaxy’s first fire had decided it was not done burning yet.

His wings spread wide, feathers shimmering like liquid gold, ready to defend the innocent and uphold the balance of the realms. Flame curled around Wrath's frame, a living, breathing entity that danced and flickered with his every movement. The inferno cast eerie shadows, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the fierce determination in his molten eyes. His power was raw, untamed, a force of nature that refused to be contained or controlled.

Mane had just employed one of those many moves: Exploding Wings. Mane’s mumble was the trigger for the huge fiery wings that grew on his back. The wings were several dozens of meters long and several meters wide. When they appeared on Mane’s back they rose high into the sky, and flapped rapidly. Yet their beating didn’t lift Mane up or take him into the sky. With the beating of those wings, the cry of a Phoenix filled the ears of all who were here, and several large flames descended upon the retreating goblins, burning them all to a crisp. The fire was stronger, completely eliminating the goblins in less than a second.

Zachary glanced at me. Instead of getting mad, he scrutinized me apathetically. Wynnie, who was beside him, suddenly said, "Mr. Lowe, Yas has shown talent as a pilot since she was young. She got her license when she was 18. At 22, she has already outperformed many experienced pilots. She's made it this far through her own efforts." Wynnie's voice was as gentle as her smile in the photo from 20 years ago.

she said, voice shaking. “Oh, but I do,” he said softly. “The Moonfire doesn’t awaken in mortals. It’s a gift reserved for gods — or their vessels.” Nova’s vision blurred. The shadows swayed. She staggered, clutching at her chest as light burst behind her eyelids. The world tilted—and then vanished. She stood in a field of endless night. Above her hung no stars, no moon — only darkness thick as smoke. But out of it rose a soft glow, forming into a figure cloaked in silver and shadow. The air shimmered around her, humming with the power of a thousand storms.