Naruto Roots Novels & Stories

All the while, my hands were busy breaking the trunks of the roots that were racing to attack me. Erebus cursed, but he was willing to do a half shift with me. With my half-wolf form, I could easily break the sharp roots protecting Grace's body. “Fuck!” I cursed angrily as I watched the roots grow more and more. My chest was rising and falling rapidly, and I was breathing like I was being chased by demons. My body was producing a lot of sweat because of the battle against those strange roots. "Based on my observations, so far, those roots can't die. They divide according to the number of your attacks," Erebus told me through the mind link. His gray fur rose, and his tail hit the floor. Erebu

he announced, “and Alpha Theron of the Ironclaw. You will fight under ancient law. No weapons. No interference. To the death, or surrender.” Ryu didn’t flinch. Theron grinned like a man already victorious. Before the fight, there was a ritual. One that hadn’t been done in generations. The Bonding of the Soul, meant to draw strength from Luna. I didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to stand in the center of that bloody place and give the crowd more reason to stare. But Ryu turned to me, and his hand reached out. “I need you,” he said softly. I nodded.

A violent, psychic shove. GO! The aster, roots and tiny bloom, is ripped from the sundered cliff. Not into the void. Down. Through layers of screaming rock, weeping memory-vines, gnawing void-stomachs. Down into the absolute dark. Down into the core of the Unraveler’s cell. Its perfect, malevolent negation. The roots hit the impossible, non-dimensional walls of its prison. And… pierce.

It was warm, laced with a distinct Owerri accent, and entirely alive. "If you are listening to this, it means the network has failed you," my mother’s voice vibrated through the horn, making my chest tighten with a sudden, suffocating grief. "Chiamaka, my beautiful girl... if you are reading the sands, you must understand that the Third Root is not a weapon of defense like the Shield in Cross River. It is a long-range Broadcasting Hub. It was built to transmit the 'Sequence 0' across the atmosphere, to reset the human mind to its original, uncorrupted frequency before the Vanes began their biochemical coding." I leaned against the stone table, my tears cutting clean tracks through the red de

The Roots That Bowed The glowing roots crawled slowly across the stone floor. No one moved. No one breathed. Hundreds of eyes watched as thick, silver-lit roots emerged from the cracks in the fortress, twisting and weaving through the stone as if it were soft soil. They moved toward Aria. The wolves around her instinctively stepped back. Fear spread through the hall like wildfire. Aria stood frozen. A voice echoed in her mind. Find me. The words felt ancient. Older than the Moon.

she adds, shaking her head, “the effects wear off. So I don’t believe this was used on you. Your suppression’s been too consistent.” Staring at it, my stomach turns a little and I make a mental note to avoid anything that even vaguely resembles a sweet potato for the rest of my life. Her fingers move to the next. Our next possible culprit is a deep purple, almost black, shape resembling a small eggplant but sprouting thin, with hairy roots emanating from one end. “Wildroot. This one’s permanent. It disables the beast for life. You lose your scent, shifting takes longer than usual, and you don’t hear a voice in your head.”

I wanted her to see me coming, and she did. Her eyes locked on mine across the battlefield. For a second fear flashed there, real, raw fear, before something harder took its place. She lifted both hands. The ground under my feet cracked open. Roots thicker than my arm shot up and wrapped around my legs, my waist, my chest. They tightened hard enough to make ribs creak. I laughed. Then I let my own power answer. Black smoke poured from my skin, thick, living, hungry. It coiled around the roots and ate through them like acid. The vines withered and fell away. I stepped free and kept walking. Anya’s face went pale.

Conri’s sword hand tightened until his knuckles turned white, but he did not strike because every root seemed connected to someone breathing. Finn whimpered from the center of the chamber, where red roots wrapped him tighter whenever anyone moved too quickly toward him. His eyes were still mostly human, but blackness flickered at the edges like the altar was teaching his fear a new language. “Do not let me talk for him,” Finn begged, his small voice cracking beneath roots that pulsed against his throat. I stepped closer, and Bardolph’s spirit wolf placed itself between me and a root that rose hungrily toward my ankle.

I picked up my sword from the floor and walked over to him, placing it against his neck and looking around at the Naga, who seemed to be ready to attack. "I will only repeat myself once. We are not here to kill, but try to attack us once more and we will not hesitate." I growled, taking a few steps back. I knelt down, placing my hands on the ground and closed my eyes, allowing myself to draw from the earth. The roaring shrieks and hisses of the Naga filled the air, as every single one of them was trapped by the roots of the trees. Naran may not have much water, but it had plenty of trees…

"But alive. Ragnar's mixture helped more than I expected." "Good. Because we are not done yet." He looked at me, and I saw the question in his eyes. Before he could ask it, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. Ragnar emerged from the shadows, carrying something in his hands. A small wooden box, carved with symbols I did not recognize. He stopped a few feet away from us and held it out. "The root." His voice was flat. "Ground into a paste, as I promised. Mix it with water, have her drink it before the moon rises. She will be cured within a week."