Oriental Fantasy Novels & Stories

Alex asked Ancestor Bodhi, “Sir, do you know the Eastern Emperor?” Ancestor Bodhi looked disdainful. “He isn’t a hundred millennia-old bigwig, so how does he qualify to be in my memory? Look at his appearance. He looks similar to a pretender I used to know. He would put on a pretense wherever he went, fearing the others would not know he was a scholar.” Alex glanced at the Eastern Emperor. He really looked similar. While they were looking at the Eastern Emperor, he also looked over. When he saw Neela’s main body, he was slightly startled. When he saw the flaming phoenix, Lecia, his eyes changed completely. They became passionate, excited, or rather, a hint of greed flashed across them.

she asked sliding to her knees boneless as the tension left her. “Don’t want to guess?” Fiona smirked teasingly. “I mean I could but there are so many creatures that have a base affinity for fire, so you could be anything from a Phoenix to a Dragon and that’s just according to Western culture, there are plenty of Japanese gods and creatures associated with fire, like the Kitsune”, she answered going back to piling things beside her bed as the Level One continued expanding.

"They are too close this time. My heart is pounding." Ezra whispered. "Stay still. We wait them out. Do not move." The guards searched the room but missed them in the shadows. As they left Dane felt the moon pull stronger than ever. A stronger partial shift hit him. His arms changed more than before. Claws and fur appeared for longer this time. "It happened," Dane said after the guards left. "A real stronger shift. I held it longer this time. Did you see that?" Ezra helped him up. "You did it. The moon helped push you through. How do you feel right now?"

“And it’s not Fenrak.” The Phantom roared deeper into the woods, the pack disappearing into the fog and shadows. Eloria & the Denial Far away, beneath a sky heavy with stars and smoke, the Magestress’s private chamber glowed like a temple of forbidden seduction. Crimson silks draped from the ceiling like rivers of blood, pooling on black marble floors polished to a mirror sheen. Bowls of scented oil burned low, filling the air with the sweet, intoxicating scent of sandalwood and dragon’s breath. Shadows danced against the walls, elongating like watchful spirits as the flames flickered.

The first sea dreamed in deep blue and waited to be named. The gods opened their palms, and all manner of beings tumbled through the light like spilled jewels and thorns together. The wolves came first, because that’s what wolves do. They ran out of the old forests onto new plains and threw their heads back and howled at a moon that had never been hunted. The fae arrived with the arrogance of a people who had always been beautiful, and found the beauty here too big for their old ambitions; still, they tried. Witches and wizards stepped through last, blinking like they’d been indoors for centuries and needed to relearn the sky. Kitsune trickled in between everyone else, laughing, leaving foot

The eye narrowed. “NO.” “They refused your choice.” The dragon of golden fire spread its wings. The phoenix answered. Their lights intertwined. The fracture trembled. The First King looked upward. Ancient satisfaction shone in its eyes. “Two souls. One promise. Yet neither surrendered themselves.” The Sleepless One roared. The hand lunged again. The dragon and phoenix moved. They flew upward together. Their lights merged completely. Gold. Silver. Violet. The sky exploded. The hand collided with the light.

Each of them broad-shouldered, their tall frames is sculpted into perfection. “This is Gloria” Sarah said to them. They introduced themselves to me. “Where is Jackson?” Sarah asked. “I am right here” a male figure said from behind as he walked majestically towards us. His slim waist tapering into long, legs that moves with the poised elegance of an apex predator. His face is a work of art, not just any art, but the masterpiece, with carved high cheekbones, a strong jawline and sensual lips, like a myth Greek god.

The remaining Eastern soldiers in the lower courtyard took one look at her glowing, unblemished skin and the ancient, suffocating authority radiating from her aura, and their coordination completely fractured. "The Matriarch," an older Eastern warrior whispered, dropping his curved falchion onto the flagstones as his inner wolf took complete control of his muscles, forcing his knees to buckle against his will. "The ancient prophecy... the First Blood has crossed the black sea." "Pick up your steel, you cowards!" a high lord shouted from the palace terrace above, his voice shaking with a volatile mix of fury and raw panic.

Just want to say that before that, I was really into Xuanhuan, Cultivation stories (Chinese web novel genres), which was roughly translated/called Eastern Fantasy by many people. However, time came when I got tired of usual tropes. If you were familiar with the genre, you would know then how long the chapters were and how repetitive it could become. Also, I became a bit peeved that they called it Eastern Fantasy, when in fact there are just so much more about eastern fantasy than cultivation and Chinese mythologies. Eastern means the whole of Eastern part of the globe. My country, Philippines is definitely part of it. There are many other nations that are part of it. In short, it is not only