Projection Sorcery Novels & Stories

Bonnie's expression turned ugly. She caught a glimpse of something behind Felix. However, she couldn't see it clearly. "Do you really think I'm afraid of you?" She smirked. Knowing how terrifying the spell was, she no longer held back. Black markings surged across her face and instantly covered it. The scene was eerie. At the same time, Felix used his killer move. "Six Word Mantra!" Despite being the same spell, its power had been heavily improved. The Phaeron Projection had no attack power, but once used, it could enhance all of Felix's soul attacks.

“What do you need from us?” Lysandra stepped closer to the platform. “You’ll channel your energies into me while I cast. Each of you will serve a purpose in anchoring the spell. Sara, you’ll provide the stabilizing energy - keep the spell from overloading. Cassius, your vampiric magic is potent and precise. You’ll feed me the strength to amplify the reach of the incantation.” “And me?” Zoe asked, her voice steady despite the apprehension gnawing at her.

As he stumbled back, his once fearsome aura now broken, he looked at me with realization dawning in his eyes. "You are more powerful than I had ever imagined," he said, his voice shaky. "But that power will not save you from the darkness that lies within." I smiled coldly at his words, the cosmic energy within me coursing through my veins, fueling my resolve. "The darkness within me is no match for the love and light that burns between James and me." With a final, desperate attempt, the sorcerer unleashed a powerful spell, enveloping us both in a maelstrom of dark energy and chaos. The ground shook beneath our feet, and the wind howled as if trying to steal our breath away.

She’d dodged and weaved, her movements fluid and unpredictable, her lupine agility proving more than a match for the sorcerer’s arcane bindings. She’d seen an opening, a moment where his concentration wavered, his acolytes faltering under the ferocity of her attack. With a burst of speed, she'd closed the distance, her spear a blur of motion. It wasn't aimed at him, but at the staff he held. The impact sent a shockwave of energy through the air, shattering the glowing emerald, the arcane power recoiling upon the sorcerer. He’d cried out, clutching his hand, his spell broken. His acolytes, their magical focus disrupted, had scattered, their illusions dissolving like smoke.

he retorted, launching into a flurry of calculated strikes aimed at Sorin's defenses. Their confrontation intensified amidst the swirling chaos of the vineyard grove. Sorin fought with determination fueled by the weight of his family's legacy and the newfound knowledge of their supernatural ties. Victor countered with ruthless precision, his every move calculated to gain the upper hand. As the battle raged on, Sorin felt a surge of elemental energy welling within him—a connection to the orb and its ancient powers. With a focused effort, he channeled this energy into his movements, enhancing his speed and strength.

What now? “I’m Zarek, Prince of the mystics,” Zarek introduces himself, a calm expression on his face like we aren’t seconds away from certain death. His voice is smooth and detached, like none of this concerns him. Killian slowly lowers his sword, his grip on it not loosening. Instead it tightens, much like the hardened expression on his face. “And what is the Prince of mystics doing here in the human realm? I doubt your visit here is official seeing as I know nothing about it.” And although he’s still talking to Zarek, he holds my gaze. “And what is your fiancée doing in my company, disguised as a human?”

"Matthew, did you hear that? She says we're not even human. I'll show her what happens when she messes with us." The assistant's smile vanished, replaced by a storm of rage as she moved to hit me, but she did not see it coming. Slap! "Zip it. She's right. You're not human. You're nothing but my pawn, and you're fooling yourself if you think you can take her place. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of my sight? If you have trouble with your hearing, I don't mind helping with that."

The flames around them flicker wildly. The little prince cries louder. Stephen flinches with every sound. “Place him on the altar,” the sorcerer instructs. Marco steps forward. The makeshift stone altar is nothing more than an old rock, but the energy that radiates from it is dark, pulsing, almost alive. He lays the child down. The boy’s cries turn to screams. Stephen can’t breathe. Marco stands back, his eyes gleaming with triumph. The sorcerer begins to chant. Low guttural sounds. Words no mortal should hear.

“This started before the ceremony. That just… made it worse.” His expression tightened slightly. “You think it’s connected to what Varka said.” “I don’t think,” I said, my jaw tightening. “I know it is.” Silence settled between us for a moment, but it wasn’t empty. It was thinking. Weighing. “Say it,” Rhys said after a second. I exhaled slowly. “I think there’s shadow magic in her.” The words landed heavily. Rhys didn’t react right away. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t accept it either. He considered it, his gaze narrowing slightly as he worked through it.

he said and got up, gesturing for the animal to follow him. They walked to a clearing and hid behind some bushes. "Look there," he pointed to a pregnant woman. He was young and caressed his huge abdomen with a smile on his lips- That's my friend's wife. She will give birth shortly. He told me that he was able to put your blood and conscience inside the baby and that way you would be born again-