Mordred Armor Novels & Stories

Malkia opened the chest. Inside lay a masterpiece of the Forge. It was a massive, custom-forged pauldron and an armored gauntlet designed specifically for Mwajuma’s right arm. The metal was not the standard iridescent silver of the Vanguard. It was forged from the dark, heavy iron-shale Mwajuma herself had pulled from the earth, masterfully interwoven with veins of pure, glowing gold. It was the armor of a commander.

Laura unwrapped the bundle and gasped. Inside was the most beautiful armor she'd ever seen. Deep crimson leather reinforced with silver plates. The chest piece was molded to fit a woman's body perfectly. Intricate designs covered every surface. "It's incredible," she breathed. "Made by the best craftsmen in my pack," Lucian said. "Lightweight but strong. It will protect you in battle." Laura ran her fingers over the smooth leather. It felt like liquid under her touch. "Try it on," Dante urged. Laura looked around. "Here?"

Silas said, holding up his clawed hand, “but we’ll carry these for when our enemies hide behind tricks.” Meanwhile, Kaelen walked among the warriors, ensuring his Silvermoon men did not grow lax. He paused by the racks of armor: chainmail, reinforced leather, and shoulder guards engraved with runes. Though not as heavy as human armory, they were crafted for agility—perfect for wolves in half-shift. By the entrance, Liora watched quietly, her eyes glowing faintly as the light of the forge reflected in them. She could feel the tension, the anticipation. These weren’t just weapons—they were lifelines, prepared for a battle that would test not just their strength but their unity.

Across the rubble-strewn wall, Varrow stepped forward through the mist. The warlord’s armour gleamed like obsidian oil, runes glowing faintly red across its black plates. The crown wrought into his helm was jagged, wrong, a set of barbs curving like broken teeth around his skull. His presence pressed against the air itself; the mist bent away from him, curling back like smoke recoiling from flame. The Guild did not move. The beasts did not move. Even the warlocks below stood still, hands half-raised, waiting.

However, the cutting of this top was too provocative, making it seem nearly as sexy as a bikini. She wrapped her arms around her body and said resentfully, “You… you’re being so mean.” Meanwhile, Alex was still looking at the remaining treasure on her body, visibly excited. He scanned them with his divine eye and noticed what was special about them. The white armor that he took was a powerful defense treasure. However, the truly impressive one was the tank top still wrapped around her ribcage. It was a piece of red beast leather. Very ancient, it had a bunch of mystical writings on it. The writings weren’t carved on, but they looked rather natural as if they’d come with the leather.

Something metallic rolled across the tiled floor with a clink, coming to rest by my foot. It was a bolt, heavy and cold, wrapped in a neon-pink sticker scrawled with black marker: “Boys who lie deserve punishment and girls who trust them? Worse.” Mordred snatched it up, his face a mask of fury as he scanned the dark street through the shattered window. "Stay down," he growled, one arm still around me, the other reaching for the glove compartment where I knew he kept a knife. He rushed to look outside, but there was no one. Not even a sound of footsteps was heard, it was dead silent. Just the wind whistling through the broken glass like a mocking laugh.

“Lord Mercer, I have a pill from an ancient ruin. Preliminary analysis shows that it can help solidify one’s foundation and expel impurities. Also, it can help focus the mind and prevent entering deviation, very useful during divine tribulations. It’s a rare treasure.” After the previous person spoke, Andrius eagerly said, “Lord Mercer, I have a set of Chromatic Armor. After refining, it can reduce the power of direct attacks in half and prevent severe injuries!” The armor had been good for Andrius. However, now that his physical strength had been greatly increased, it was useless to him. “Lord Mercer...” As soon as Andrius finished speaking, the people of Dark Star also began to bid. That w

This aura… why does it feel familiar, like I know who it belongs to? A 6ft 3 man with silver hair fashioned into a Mohawk wearing gold earrings walked to meet Kronos in the center of the arena. Kronos gasped when he saw him. Zorvun’s Beard! He looks just like me! He wore a bronze breastplate made from many layers of smaller metal pieces, mimicking the scales of a dragon. It covered everything from the neck down. The upper arms were protected by pointed, half covering rerebraces which sat well under the shoulderplates. The lower arms were covered by vambraces which had a dragon shaped metal ornament piece on each outer side. The upper legs were covered by rounded, half covering cuisses. The

He lifted the breastplate to Aletharin's chest, aligned the front plate with the back plate, and placed the leather straps in their sockets. “Do the plates match?” he asked. “They do,” Aletharin answered. He tightened the straps. The breastplate was decorated in a herbal motive. His mentor placed the gorget that was decorated in the same herbal motive. Aletharin moved, did a somersault and landed on his feet. “Good,” his mentor was pleased, “the armor doesn't stop your moment.” “True,” Altharin turned. “You still need the vambrace, faulds and helm.”

Moriah was gazing at his reflection. His tight black armor was made from iron, the breastplate was lined with transmuted thin craft of gold, the symbol of his army Wolf was carved in the left side of the plate. He saw his gesture in the mirror, as cold as always, two piercing and cruel eyes, small stubble around his chin. He blinked, slightly wondering why he was looking at himself, it was unlike of him. It was also a big day for him.