Sango Gold Dust Black Novels & Stories

Ganzorig was much taller than the average Salamander. His hair was in a top knot and he had a long thin nose that was aquiline and raptorlike. His skin was bronzed while his eyes, always half-open, belied his violent nature. He wore chain mail on his huge arms and steel gauntlets on his hands; wide chains crisscrossed his bare chest. This was the trademark attire of the Kanebori-shu or Gold-diggers. They were fire Slayers lured from distant regions by the gold rush, renowned for their skill in demolitions and explosives like nitroglycerine. Many of them had been recruited by the Khaganate to become siege-engineers and sappers in wartime.

The "First Transaction" of the collector was not a trade of currency, but a trade of "Archetypes." The "Avatar of the Past"—the eighteen-year-old Silas Blackwood—stood in the center of the "Grey Static" left by the Merchant’s deletion. He was a masterpiece of "Alpha Purity," his gold-and-sapphire skin glowing with a shadowless, clinical brilliance. He carried the "Original Silver Dagger," and his stormy sea-grey eyes were two solid pools of unadulterated pride.

He knew Sango as a money thirsty man so whoever choosed Sango in his or her games must know so much about him. Sango's face twitched to the side as he fell down to the ground with blood trickling out from the side of his lips. Using his hand, he cleaned the blood out from the side of his lips and looked at his trembling hand. His hand was stained with blood and his mouth was aching in pain signifying that he had lost one of his teeth. He raised his body from the ground, still on his knees in front of Leonardo. His head was lowered down as he dared not look at the devilish man's face.

Gold didn’t seem to want to do anything to the remaining survivors she just stood there and start to count. “1… 2…. 3 ...4 ...um… about 5 peoples.” Said Gold before controlling her black fog power shaping in the form of ropes and capturing all the people within the hall. The black rope that forms from her power sap all the strength from the survivors' body within a minute before all of them lie down on the floor without any power to resist, not even to open their mouth and groan. Gold waiting for a moment before the footsteps of two people resound within the hall. She immediately turned to kneel in that direction. Zhu Wushang who’s leading silver into the hall. He nodded at Gold to have her

A shimmer of moonlight on steel. Elira’s dagger was in her hand instantly. “We’re not alone.” Figures emerged from the shadows—tall, cloaked, their eyes glinting like stars. Their movements were silent, precise, deadly. Elves. One stepped forward, lowering his hood. His hair was gold as wheat, his features sharp and cold. His gaze swept over Kaelen before settling on Elira. “Liraethiel,” he said, voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “You’ve broken exile.”

Claire pouted as she trudged over and stuck her lip out once Alisha’s hands covered her eyes. With some help, we rolled Franky over so I could pull down his underwear and start carving into his junk with his own knife. The few males on the cage paled and had to look away, but many of the women looked on with satisfaction. No doubt this asshole abused more than a few of them. Reaching up to my sleeve where my packet of silver dust was still hidden with duct tape, I took a small pinch out and started spreading it into all of the cuts I made. Now it wouldn’t heal quickly, helping to spread the story of our new sickness.

I immediately start to spot the differences and the hope dies out in my chest. “You are mistaken dragon. The aura that we see here is not the same colors. It still has the same beautiful silvery glow and the warmth of the pink. However, there are differences. The silver is now outlined with gold and there is black in the middle. We know what black in a soul means. She is tainted. She could not be our mate” I tell him as I flick the image away. He seems to ponder what I said for a moment and then he gives up. I still think you should call me something else. Being called dragon just feels wrong.

"Bring me her alive!" The woman submerged in the wine inside the tub, emerged again from between the sovereign's legs, trying to suck in a breath of air. "Help me imbeciles!" yelled Guildor at his acolytes rising from the tub. His voluminous body dripped huge amounts of water. He leaned with his right hand on his black staff made of ebony with a silver hilt in the shape of a knob. A medallion embedded with a black opal in the shape of a half moon hung from his neck. He had snatched both from his father long ago.

I guess he enjoyed stripping, as I didn't see him in clothes most of the time, except when he was in an important gathering. Right now, he was only in a boxer's brief and his hair was in disarray. His dark eyes glinted, and I noticed it was swirling in the weird golden colour. “Why do your eyes do that all the time? I mean, change from Black to Gold?” “That's because,” Sin said, then paused. He pushed himself away from the door and walked toward me. One of his hands clutched my hand, tugging me to him. Whilst the other grabbed my backside, kneading them.