Mordred Armor Novels & Stories

Their chest, abdomen, back, and head were protected by black and gold steel armor. Under close scrutiny, their armor and combat uniforms were embroidered with a golden dragon and branded with the words ‘Legion of the Sovereign’! This combat group consisted of 12 people. Six of them carried black and gold wooden boxes in their hands, while their waists were equipped with long sabers and short spears. The wooden boxes were carved with four mythical beasts. The other six escorted behind them. They barged in from the memorial hall entrance. With every step they took, their combat boots made a clanging sound on the ground, which was shocking to the senses.

Edric muttered under his breath as he arranged the books and parchments on his desk. Arth took his time to look around the den. Shelves made of redwood had stored and contained a few books, rolled scrolls, and parchments. He came into a cabinet and opened it, revealing a couple of clothes and hides, including boots, gloves, and capes. The next shelf displayed a sword and armor. Arth touched the cold blade of the sword and remembered Blackwinter before. Though he had acquired the Legendary Cursed Sword of Glacia, he still missed his first sword, the only sword that had been with him growing up and training as a warrior.

The golden bracelet remained exposed, its warm glow a reminder of Fafnir's presence. When he finally emerged from his chamber, he found his chosen companions waiting, each similarly prepared for whatever might come. Marcia wore her full battle regalia, the insignia of Dracoterrum's imperial guard gleaming on her breastplate. Kiri had exchanged her usual flowing garments for something more fitted and practical, though no less elegant, silver runes embroidered along the edges that hummed with power. Dilo stood tall and proud, her void-corrupted arm not hidden but displayed openly, a statement and weapon both.

The twilight that had settled over the royal castle no longer carried the uncertainty of the previous nights, but the gravity of an unshakable purpose. In the Great Armory, beneath the dull glow of resin torches and the acrid smell of weapon oil, silence was filled only by the sound of metal being sharpened. Cedrik stood in the center of the hall, his black combat armor now proudly bearing the seal of his lineage with renewed ferocity. Beside him, Freya was no longer the prisoner he had once dragged through ashes. She wore reinforced leather and suede battle attire, practical for combat, yet her stormy eyes carried the golden light of the Ancestral Luna—an unspoken authority that made even t

Willa clutched the throne, shaking, then forced herself up. "Selene! Come out! What, too scared? Show yourself if you've got the guts!" She had no idea. I wasn't just rocking two Powers anymore. After munching on a few spoiled brats' cores, I unlocked a bonus—Invisibility. Had to check if my Powers even worked with her plot armor jamming everything, so I ghosted up and stepped in. Didn't expect her to whip out an AK and go full psycho. All that fear? Gone.

"What do you want." He held up the metal bundles. "Nero's orders. Both of you wear these tonight. No arguments." He dropped his eyes to the gown Isolde was holding. "As beautiful as that would be — and it would be genuinely beautiful — tonight is not the night." He held out the armor. "Warriors only." We looked at the armor. Then at each other. It was metal. Heavy. The kind meant for wolves twice our size. Chest plates. Arm guards. Something that was either a helmet or a very aggressive hat.

He is the youngest male in the room, but the one with the strongest will and a pair of balls made of steel. I nodded, he lifted Asteria´s hand and kissed it. “I´m leaving,” he said, following Iris and Aunt Charmaine out of the room. “Dominic…” Another foreign voice said, and I looked at Urien. “I am an Onyx dragon. May I ask what materials you are using for the armour? Maybe if we find a way to replicate my natural ability to shield, the armour would be stronger and more effective,” he said, and Dominic nodded. “We developed with a mix of fabric, magic, and steel…” he said, and Urien nodded.

"We have something for you. Something to make sure everyone knows exactly who they're dealing with." They set the cases down on the table. Silas clicked the latches and swung the lid open. My breath hitched. Resting in the foam was a suit of armor unlike anything I’d ever seen. It wasn't the dull silver of the guard or the black of the scouts. It was a deep, bruised crimson—the color of drying blood, polished to a mirror sheen. "It’s dark red," I whispered, reaching out to touch the cold metal of the breastplate.