Shaman Class Hall Entrance Novels & Stories

Garin knew what this power was and he knew now that convincing the shaman was going to be more difficult. The woman walked out from the back, turned on the lights and stood by the door, waiting for him to come in. “I thought you needed my help? Come on in!” She said, wondering why he was still standing outside. “I, uh, I can’t walk in. I’m blocked,” He said. The shaman raised a brow in recognition, aware now of exactly what Garin was and wary of his presence. “Demons are not welcome on these grounds. There is spelled salt in the cement at every point of entry of this place which is why you can’t cross over to come in. Leave!” She turned away.

Venturing to the shamans, I discovered them seated in a mystical circle, hands intertwined, engaged in an enigmatic ritual that resonated with an otherworldly aura. Returning to Athena's confinement, I awaited the stroke of midnight. The shamans later joined me. My head soldier stood by my side, a silent guardian in the impending mystical events. “We will need to be alone,” the shaman insisted. I gave a sign to my soldier to stand aside, emphasizing the solemnity of the moment. “Alone,” the man repeated, catching my stern gaze. I maintained a fierce expression, a silent command that spoke volumes. After a hesitant pause, he mumbled, “No problem, you can stay.”

Since the Marsh was a specialized habitat, the main type of spirit master was the one with flame attributes or poison attributes to restrict the plant-type beasts of the marsh. In front of the entrance that reached as high as 10 meters were armored men with steel spears in their hands. Their expressions covered by striking helmets. "Halt!" One of the guards commanded and struck the base of his spear on the ground before moving towards Ah Yin and Chen. "Please reveal the pass to the hunting ground!" The guard stated and Ah Yin handed him the dark token. On one side of the token was a broadsword pointing downwards. This was the emblem of the Spirit Hall.

CARDAN The walk to the chief’s hall felt longer than any arena battle I’d fought. The warriors surrounding me didn’t speak, or even glance my way once. When we finally reached the massive wooden structure carved with antlers and claw marks, the wolf beastman motioned me forward. “Enter. He awaits.” I stepped inside.

“Bye, everyone.” Then he was gone, the door shutting lightly behind him. “Let’s go, Christy.” I paused, studying my dad’s face—trying to read what he wasn’t saying—before stepping forward. We left together. The Shaman’s dwelling sat quiet and heavy with incense, the air thick with something older than the pack itself. “Shaman,” my dad greeted, bowing slightly. We followed his lead, bowing lower before straightening. “The Haven family,” the Shaman said calmly, his eyes settling on me. “I have been expecting you.”

Kieran led me straight toward the grand stone altar at the base of the ancient oak tree, where the High Shaman stood waiting with a heavy silver chalice. The air felt thick, charged with an incredible, buzzing energy that made the hairs on my arms stand up. Deep inside my soul, I felt a sudden, familiar flutter of ancient warmth. Celine was watching. The preparation was over, the wolves were watching in shock, and the ritual was about to begin.

Then the chamber doors opened, and the atmosphere changed at once, not because anyone spoke, but because a heavy, ancient presence seemed to enter with the cold air itself. Three northern shamans entered, bringing with them the scent of cedar smoke and winter forests. Silver bone charms rested against dark robes embroidered with ancient symbols that shimmered faintly beneath the lantern light. The eldest among them stopped the instant his eyes fell upon Draevor, and although the change in his expression was so slight that most would have missed it, Halrem noticed it immediately because she rarely overlooked anything. The old shaman then walked forward with measured steps before lowering his

Dawn greeted us with a radiant embrace. A bevy of spirited wolf maidens stepped into the chamber. Cradling wooden bowls brimming with crystal-clear spring water, the young maidens approached with a tenderness that calmed the air itself. They bathed me with such care, as if they were polishing sacred stones. Once cleansed, they presented a vibrant red fruit, mashing it into a rich, scarlet nectar. The shaman entered, her presence as commanding as the moon's pull. With a dip of her finger into the crimson liquid, she painted a crescent moon upon my brow.

"Oh, heads up about the teacher." "The teacher?" "It's Stan." The one who’d wanted to skin me alive at Aaron’s welcome back party. "You're kidding me." "Nope." "Great. What's the bet he offers me a one on one?" "Nah, he wouldn't off you in front of witnesses." I rolled my eyes. "You're so sweet and reassuring." "It runs in the family," He said dryly. We headed back to the main Cavern and took the tunnel directly opposite to the one that led to the kitchen and water caves. This hall was free of side rooms and had a slight upward curve to it, before opening out into a level room the size of a barn.

just as she was deciding that, the great door of the hall slowly opened, attaining everyone's attention as the hall slowly fell into eerie silence. Everyone standing in between scooted towards the corner. Megara stood up straight and walked forward to have a clear look at the door. Her eyes narrowed when she saw two men entering the hall. They were limping. Their walking pace was very slow and they were wearing black cloaks. Since the guards didn't let them in, they took off their cloaks and showed them a coin with a certain logo on it. They were from the Shu Clan. For some reason, the head of the Shu Clan was not here. As Agnes said last time, they were busy teaching their younger ones for