Public Enemy Prophets Of Rage 소설 & 이야기

"She still refuses to take off that enchanted ring. Both Priestess Alethaliyah and Greer have foretold that Theodavian Sagedeluna is returning. It does not surprise me for he is a part of the prophecy after all." Dante raised his eyebrow at that. "I did not know that." "It is my own personal prediction," she confessed with a shrug. His Queen finally faced him and looked him directly in the eyes. "You are needed in these pending wars, Dante. Your part in this tale will lead from the beginning and to the very end." He could not keep the surprise from her nor that he believed he ever could. Lady Crystobelle was a master at truth. She gave him a smile with a shimmer of mischievousness in her eye

That was when a merchant player strode up to the center. "I-I know the rules!" Every other player quickly turned toward him, hoping for details. That was when a rift tore out of thin air, and a cloaked figure emerged, laughing coolly. "Foolish mortals! What do you think this is, your average death game?" I raised a brow—it was a Prophet, a guide of their respective level.

"This one... this heartbeat is strong, a dominant Alpha. But this second one... the frequency is off the charts. It’s the White Moon Prophet. The seer. The one from the legends." "Holy shit," Rhoda whispered from the corner. Victor stared at the screen, his hand hovering over Elodie’s stomach but afraid to touch her. "A Prophet? My child is a Prophet?" "And an Alpha," Elodie added, her voice stronger now. "They're together. Just like I saw." The moment of awe was shattered by the crackle of a radio. Zack grabbed it, his face turning ashen. "Victor. We have a problem. A big one."

"A lot of cities were found with bloods on the floor both from our people and also from The Werewolf, if this continues the world will come to an end. "So do you think my destiny is to save the world that is already ending You might not know but the night I awakened I saw the man that caused this whole Prophecy issues which is the reason forbthe blood Hatred. I told him for making those important to me die, When the world needs my helps because of the so called fate. "I WILL NEVER MOVE"

"Of course, it's you! You're the toad and I'm the swan. You're not even worthy to tie my shoes, so get lost before I make you regret it." "You wretched woman, I'll make you wish you were never born..." The man, now completely enraged by Serena's words, decided to use force. He couldn't believe he couldn't handle a drunken woman. This woman had truly ignited his fury, he absolutely hated it when people called him ugly. The man reached out aggressively, trying to grab her. But Serena wasn't someone to mess with, she swiftly caught his arm and with a graceful spin, tossed him aside effortlessly. Despite her petite and charming appearance, Serena was trained in Taekwondo.

"Just say the words Alpha Rowan, just say the words." " Aye, and what says the prophesy if it's wrong? " Another warrior, a thick, black werewolf named Lyra. "We've heard countless times of prophesies that went wrong, and this won't be an exception, surely, would it? " he asked. turning to the other warriors, his eyes furrowed. The elderly's warrior' eyes remained constantly fixed on Rowan. "You'll regret this, I tell you for sure." Rowan stood up, rage feeling his eyes. " You have not right to oppose my aspirations, not now, not ever," he roared, his claws digging deep into the table in front of him.

Then he drew a thick, heavy baton from his thigh sheath, and extended it triply with the snap of a wrist. He recalled what Freya had said, about how the Prophets had an incredibly short fuse, and that they could be easily manipulated because of it. Problem was, he didn’t know how to light said fuse. And he didn’t want to be near when the whole thing exploded.

Any thoughts about her could lead to their death! Of the two men, one was extremely tall and the other was extremely short. The tall man was slim and lanky. His muscles weren’t well defined, neither was his face the most pleasant thing to behold. He was hunched over, and his arms were much longer than his legs, so much so that they were almost dragging on the floor. He was average looking at best, and his strange frame kept people away from him. This tall man a High Level Divine Servant at the 7th stage of the Nobility Realm. He was a master of no weapons other than his own body. For his long nails were refined and sharper than many Mid-Level Weapons and comparable to High level Weapons. And

This feeling was something wholly foreign to him yet clung to him like moss on an oak tree since he'd learned of the prophecy. And what about the remnants of his people here in this time, working their fingers to the bone for masters they did not choose? Another stanza came to him. 'United, they'll save their peoples against their plight, against the frozen sword, they'll stand and fight'. It said 'their peoples'. Did that mean he was supposed to save these pitiful excuses for shifters that were left of the Skölls as well? And how? Brand was sure he himself could take out quite a few of Magnus' men, but these other people were not trained fighters. Many couldn't even shift! What, by all the

His gaze following every single movement Jayson made, if I didn't hate him and kind of want him dead, then I probably would have appreciated his protection a little more. "Who says I took them down without any help?" I returned the question without hesitation. "There's not a man out there is stupid enough to help a rogue. They especially wouldn't dare help a rogue who was residing so close to the border of another territory," Jayson replied with confidence. "If that's the case then I guess I took them all down on my own. Me, a week she-wolf who has been living the life of a rogue for ten years, single handedly killed eighty of your best fighters. Men who had been trained from the age of twel