Reaper Of The Martial World の小説・ストーリー

“He saved my life. There has to be something.” The Reaper was silent for a long moment, his gaze shifting between Damon’s wound and my stomach. He was the auditor of souls, the final arbiter of life and death. He was looking at the cosmic scales, weighing the life of a Prince of Hell against the potential lives of three beings who could reshape the universe. “There is… a theory,” he said slowly. “A long shot. To counteract a weapon of pure unmaking, you need a catalyst of pure creation. Something forged not from power, but from the echo of the moment power itself began.”

The boy in front of them was a genius of the Real Martial World! The Real Martial World was a space world specially created by a group of powerful experts from Dynastic era. Although it was in the Ethereal Land, they rarely interacted with the outside world. But... Almost everyone who came out of the Real Martial World had extraordinary cultivation. Meanwhile... It was also the supreme existence in the Real Martial World who had set a strict rule in the Tianwu Continent. There was no need to fight recklessly between the warriors of the Magic Realm, lest it cause a spatial rift in the Ethereal Land...

He said, “Speed reigns supreme in martial arts. As expected of the Refined Blade Slash. “There’s no fancy technique, no useless movement, just raw speed and power from drawing the sword. Once you reach extreme speed, you will be the strongest.” The man in the uniform turned around with furrowed brows. He asked coldly, “Who are you?” “Murao, manners!” Reiko appeared behind Aiden. “This is Aiden of the Krad family from Westeros. You should apologize for that tone.” She was also in a white karate uniform. Her white uniform set off her fair skin, making her look even more seductive.

He dangled ninety stories above the street. "Hold on!" I screamed. The Reaper recovered. He pulled a knife. He lunged at me. I rolled onto my back. I caught his wrist. He was strong. Genetically enhanced. He pushed the knife toward my throat. I looked into his masked face. I saw zero emotion. "Die," he whispered. Suddenly a black shadow fell over us. Kael had fought through the paralysis. He lunged. His jaws clamped around the Reaper’s head. There was a sickening crunch.

He stroked my hand with his thumb. “The bringers of death?” I suggested. “The Delazar’s thrive on war. Their leader loves chaos and power. Delazar believes the weak should be killed.” He paused, with a grim look on his face, and I thought back to what Sam said about his brother, then he continued, “Reaper is the name he gave our clan because we are the bringers of death.” “Have you… brought death to anyone?” I wanted his answer to be no but a part of me wondered and I had to know.

Not only she can’t use her healing ability in this world yet her missions requires inevitable pain! “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll heal right after the midnight strikes.” Garfield remarked, “That’s why don’t die by that time. Wounds can be healed but not a broken and scattered soul.” That’s another thing K Whatever learned from him. A reaper may not be wounded by mortal’s pain but it can be wounded by other reapers or with other spirits lingering in the world. They can feel pain but not easily die.

he said, voice low, filled with something that sounded like sorrow—and rage. Light exploded around us and the tomb trembled as if the world itself recoiled and as darkness swallowed me, I heard it, his heartbeat, steady and ancient, thudding in perfect time with mine. That was the night the Reaper woke.

The man had finally managed to produce a child and he wanted me to stand in a hall and applaud. "Small man," I said. "Large occasion." Gary said nothing. That was the correct response. My throne had been built on the bodies of my father and my brothers, taken in the year I turned twenty-four, held through five years of war that hadn't fully ended. I had killed more men than I could name. The packs called me The Reaper and stayed out of my borders and prayed their treaties held. The elders said Moon Godness herself had cursed me, no fated mate, no heir, no future beyond the violence I was good at.

Towns and even cities were reduced to mere villages where survivors of the illness would try to group in hopes of surviving the chaos that was the world. Over the years of control, the Chosen learned that there were more males than females left in the territory that they were in control of. The leaders began to come up with a plan to make sure that the strongest male lines and those that were worthy of it, we're able to have a mate to continue the population with. The old laws of marriage were no longer of any use, thus the annual reaping would take place.

"Come on. We need to find Elias and break the curse on us." Mirabelle dug in her heels. "No, not unless you acknowledge this child!" "What child? Don't you dare ruin my son!" The two of them started fighting. All of a sudden, Marcus thought of something, ran to the side, and threw up. My assistant reminded me that I still had a business gathering to attend that evening. I'd had enough of this farce, so I ordered my bodyguards to kick them all out. … Later on, my best friend told me how Clara aged at lightning speed and ultimately had to rely on expensive medical equipment to stay alive.