Rukh Magi Novels & Stories

"Well next time tell them that they can wait. Because, my darling, I can't wait for you. I get worried out of my mind when I don't see you." "I too, my love, feel the same way." She pulled away only to place a sweet and gentle kiss on my lips. "Now that is a good way to say hello. Come one, let’s go upstairs." I lead her upstairs to where our room was and walked inside. "Are you hungry darling?" She licked her lips looking at me. Magi feed off of lust and love. Of course they can eat any other species food, except for greater demons’ food. Greater demons’ food is blood of a child. That would not only sicken a magi, but it is against their laws.

The bloody Red Humanoid Figure said as his Avatar got close to Magu. "Let me tell you the truth. The one who sealed me before defeated me with just one mighty punch. Do you still think I'm lying to you or you're just scared to face someone really strong?" Nri Magu was banking on his belief that the Red God Monster was a freak that enjoyed challenging and killing other strong opponents. It would be his final gift to the Mysterious God that sealed him before. He already knew, the Red God Monster was stronger than the Mysterious God, 'why not take him with me too' he thought to himself.

“Are you a knight?” The innkeeper cast a glance over his shoulder at the gathered menfolk, who were all keenly following the conversation. I was glad I was not the only person to think he looked like one. “A mage,” Rivyn sat back on his chair. “Though I have competently wielded a sword on occasion,” he added in such a way that I knew with certainty that he was as much a knight as he was a mage, despite his demurring. The innkeeper agreed with me, his expression avid. “A mage knight,” he said. “That’s exactly what we need to kill this dragon.”

Today Yibel looked particularly smart in a brand new ceremonial robe. Apprentice magicians all wear brown robes, and the mages' ceremonial robes are blue, symbolising pure magical energy. Below the fourth rank, only the cuffs are patterned; the fifth to ninth ranks have patterns on the garments, and the tenth to fourteenth ranks have embedded magical patterns. From the fifteenth rank, they can wear whatever style they like, and no one can control the Masters.

“The runes—you said they could contain dark magic, right?” Ron’s eyes widened. “Yes, but—” “Then use them!” Ron hesitated for only a second before moving. His fingers traced a pattern in the air, his voice murmuring an incantation that made the air pulse with energy. The runes glowed, forming a barrier of shimmering light between them and Magnus. The dark magic lashed against it, resisting, fighting. Magnus screamed—a sound that was equal parts rage and agony. “Hold him!” Ron shouted. “I need time!”

He had a vague power of witchcraft on him, indicating that the person was a warlock. Maggie took a glance at the warlock with a victorious expression and said, “No, you people have made a mistake. My confidence comes from this!” She took out a note out of her bag and put it on top of the coffee table in front of everyone. It was an IOU. It was written on it that Henry Assex had borrowed money from Maggie… After the few people looked closely at it, they were shocked beyond words. They could only see a very long string of zeros, with the number “1” at the front.

“Witches and Magi are intrinsically the same…” “They are not.” Mark snapped fiercely then looked around in horror that he’d contradicted James. He put his head in his hands to hide his face. “They are.” James stated calmly. “They both can wield Magic. The only difference is Witches use different receptacles to do it. The type of Magic you can perform depends upon the receptacle you have. If you want to perform dark Magic you need to have something cursed, something evil.” “But Mark said that a receptacle is like a part of a Magi’s soul.” lisa said not even sure where she was going with it.

Beneath a crimson sky, three colossal pyramids rose from the desert, their tips burning with a black flame. At the center of a ritual circle stood a man cloaked in scarlet and gold — the Magus whose name the stars refused to remember. Around him, hundreds knelt in terror as he raised a blade carved from obsidian and bone. With one stroke, he opened his own palm and let the blood drip into a basin carved with wolf sigils and the eyes of witches. His voice thundered across the sands. “From spirit and night, I summon thee!” The blood hissed, turning into a vortex of smoke and shadow. From its heart, something began to take form — tall, lean, carved from the dark itself.

"You are yet to deal with the threat you have brought upon yourself and now, you are pulling another! Why don't I go ahead then, and make your head roll on the ground? This is because you have said it and I believe you. Don't worry Ammon, I will not do that, I still, need you alive. The Alpha did nothing but gruntled in pain. Now, Magaritha was wearing a white Cloak. Her hair was very long, I haven't seen any hair like that before. Her long fingernails were painted with a red cortex. They serve to remind me that she was the all-powerful leader of the Witches. Her eyes can not be described but, one thing I will never forget was the fact, that they shone with evil and wickedness. In her hand w

I gasp, my hand wrapped around the scalp, refusing to travel further in case of finding eyeholes or teeth. Ruth nodded, her purple eyes coloured with gold and at least one other, perhaps silver. She’s a collection of insanity, bundled into a petite white-haired evil little dwarf. This kind of magic is not for our world. What has she distorted in the North in order to achieve this power? “They’re brothers. Work with it.” I see her hand go to her thick, leatherbound book, and I brace, knowing when she claps that shut I’ll be flung back into the room. It still hurts like a bitch but I’ve managed not to vomit for a few days.