Morgen Black Clover Novels & Stories

“I want to thank everyone for coming. Anyone Clover considers family is family to us.” Applause follows. Morgan clears his throat. “Clover, we’d like to meet with you this week. There are things that we need to discuss about you and what actually belongs to you as a Blackwood.” “Is it serious?” “No. Just yours and you acknowledgement of what always belonged to you.” “Is Monday ok?” “Monday works for me.” The night continues with warm and joyful interactions, the group as a whole are fully enjoying each other. But across the restaurant…

POV: Morga, Queen of the Raven Coven "Don’t move another inch, Rhea. If you take one more step, the seal on the child’s life snaps, and your 'miracle' becomes a tomb." Morga’s voice was like ice cracking under a winter moon, sharp and brittle. She stood atop the shattered remains of the Moon-Drowned Altar, her raven-feather cloak fluttering in the unnatural wind that still whipped through the ruins. Her violet eyes were no longer filled with the terror of a woman facing a goddess; they were filled with the cold, calculating triumph of a strategist who had just played her final, hidden card.

I don’t stop. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be,” he grits out. “You’re… you.” Cleric returns in twenty minutes, breathing hard, hands full of silver-green vines. Moonvine. It only blooms under a full moon, and the last full moon was three nights ago. “How…” “Your mother planted a garden,” Cleric says. “Behind the old healer’s cottage. After I was taken. She said if she couldn’t save me, she’d save others.”

It would be satisfying knowing that she no longer exists, especially now that Morgana was dead. Abraddox roared heavily as I climbed it's back and was ready for war. She turned to my direction and I grabbed the ropes. She dashed into the sky with so much speed while I hang on. Abraddox was also ready for this war. As the clouds passed, I looked down and noticed some people on the ground moving and ordered for Abraddox to moved down too. He descended down a little and I saw men dressed up in all black heading for Blood Moon Pack.

Blackmoon once shrouded in the shadows of manipulation, now stood as a beacon of celestial purity. As the pink sun dipped below the horizon, casting a cascade of pastel hues across the Blackmoon landscape, Luna's celestial aura seemed to blend seamlessly with the cosmic tapestry of Blackmoon. The source of manipulation had been dismissed, and the Blackmoon enclave revelled in the newfound clarity that adorned its Blackmoon streets.

It was a beautiful morning as the son graciously rose from the east. It hot effect was subdued by the freezing temperature. A Lamborghini stopped in front of the black market and the gates pushed up. It drove into the place and Morgana got down. She was on a black coat whose collar projected to up to her face. Her lips were painted black and her eye lashes were darker than the normal. Her high heels were also black as she catwalks toward Hayato whose guards moved toward her.

My body was already fragile, worn out from the emotional and physical toll of the past days, and now someone was toying with me? As I reached for the doorknob again to close it, something caught my attention. A sharp, peculiar scent. Sweet, yet spicy. Oddly familiar, but...wrong. My eyes fell to the porch, and my breath hitched. A bouquet of Moon Flowers. Only, they weren’t the crystal white ones that gently glowed in the dark. These were black. Deep, glossy black, shimmering under the pale daylight like polished onyx. They didn’t just sit there—they loomed, almost alive in their stillness.

He staggered to his feet slowly wearing a bleak expression, His features were pale and under the moonlight that infiltrated through the leaves. The woman, or rather what was left of her which was merely a heap of bones and a few scattered rotten flesh was solid evidence against him. "What is this Morgen?" Allanon's cold words sliced through the air like the crack of a whip. The tension radiating from both of them was in sizzling waves. A resigned and almost hopeless expression flashed across Morgen's features, replaced solidly by a bittered look. "What does it look like? You've been searching for me, is that not? " He responded.

Lira’s breath caught in her throat. The woman who entered was cloaked in deep green, her long, silver-streaked black hair cascading down her back in waves. Violet eyes, glowing with an eerie, otherworldly power, locked onto the room with a predatory gleam. Her presence filled the space as though it were an ancient, invisible force. The torches flared back to life as she stepped forward, as if paying homage to her arrival. Morgana Blackthorne had come. Thoren, ever the respectful leader, was the first to speak, his voice thick with deference. "Morgana," he greeted, nodding respectfully.

Everett replied, "no, but we will jump." Everett jumped from the castle tower. She screamed in shock and hugged Everett's body. Everett jumped on every tree and stopped at one of the taller trees. Everett said, "it's alright, you can open your eyes now." She opened her eyes and was fascinated by the beauty of the realm of black mist. There is a colourful light that looks like a galaxy. She thought frightening darkness only surrounded the realm of Black Mist. But that darkness also looks beautiful. "Should we continue our journey? Don't close your eyes," Everett said.