Novel & Cerita Shuumatsu No Valkyrie Cover

He buys slaves yearly for labor and pleasure until he buys Akira. A white slave with distinct features. I was told by my father that her features were so striking. White hair and eyes and— Suddenly, familiarity struck my imagination before I could understand. The young girl in the forest. She had white hair and eyes. She wasn't Akira, but… “Valkyrie.” I muttered, realization dawning on me like I was splashed with a cold bucket of water. The girl with those features was Valkyrie. The words kept repeating in my head like a mantra. And her father…

“I just wish I could do more.” “You are.” We go quiet, watching. Valen pours everything into the Barrier. The orange light glows like lava—or sunlight falling like a waterfall. It’s stunning. He’s stunning. I can’t look away. And I never felt prouder to be called his Mate.

What? My hair whipped around my face as I battled solo with Valen. He really was impressive, but I didn’t want to admire him. I didn’t want to admit that he held his own against me. I wanted to bring him down. Letting out a shriek, I formed a throwing dagger and a Japanese shoto sword. An unusual combination, but it was that unexpectedness that had brought my challengers to their knees on several occasions. I charged at Valen, his eyes widening as I slashed and stabbed at him with my shoto while jabbing at him with my dagger. I only aimed for spots that I knew would kill him within minutes of a strike—his neck, his heart, his lungs, major arteries. His body twisted and his forearm guard rang

My vision blurred, getting darker. Grasping my own neck, I wheezed and gasped while struggling to free myself from the scalding death choke. My heart tightened as though steel bands constricted it. Thinking of the pack members and my responsibility to protect them, I clasped my palms to form a triangle at my chest as I summoned the white energy within me and discharged it at the kripling. His clutch slackened and I darted another at him. Sensing his mother in danger, Valen teleported into the living room, standing behind the black-cloaked kripling, and with gun fingers fired a white magical shuriken into his back.

And she was a little loud but it wasn't like the ordinary humans around would understand what we were talking about so it was fine. Mr. Voss smiled back at her, although his expression looked stoic. "I'd rather keep my age to myself then." "Yeah, I'd rather not know. Umm, by the way, this is Val, my mate." Sage tugged me closer to her, laughing. Mr. Voss shifted his attention to me, his face was neutral so I didn't really know what to say. "I see, you're Valkyrie of the Scarred Moon. It's nice to meet you finally."

The coyote mist howled—silent to everyone else, loud as sirens in my skull. The spiral behind my ear spun. I dropped the camera. It hung against my chest, strap cutting into my neck. Someone laughed behind me. Low, Kyoto accent wrapped in venom. “Careful, Valentina-chan. Some pictures develop teeth.” Seras Nakamura leaned against the chain-link, red streak in her black hair glowing like fresh blood under the lights. She wore the same uniform as the cheer squad but hadn’t bothered with the bow—looked like she’d cut it off with scissors and zero regrets.

The iron bars were cold beneath my palm as I pressed against them, my gaze settling on the frail figure inside. Heather. The shaman sat against the wall, her silver-streaked hair tangled and unkempt, deep lines etched into her face. She looked up at us slowly, her hollow eyes holding something both weary and knowing. “Valkyrie,” she rasped, the word carrying the weight of years. Valkyrie’s breath hitched. “Heather.” The shaman’s lips barely lifted in a ghost of a smile. “My child.” “I’m here,” Valkyrie said, her voice raw, unwavering. She ignored the way my fingers tensed around the bars, ignored the silent warning in my stance.

’ Czer snarled within me, his voice edged with warning. But the way out was gone. The Rift pulsed, alive and aware. And then — I saw them… Figures in the distance, caught between time. Lycans, witches, warriors… and among them, myself... Standing amidst the ruins of Valkyrie, sword drawn, blood dripping down my hands. “No,” I whispered. “That’s not real.” Valentina reached for me, her hand brushing mine. “Andres?” But her touch sent a violent shiver within me and something crushed before my eyes— two moons bleeding together, and between them, her silhouette standing alone, light pouring from her chest.

Then a photo popped up. A close-up of a study. Dim lighting. A mahogany desk. A glass of dark red liquid. And right in the center, an open ancient parchment book. My fingers froze over the keyboard. My smile died. The blood drained from my face, leaving my limbs freezing cold. Stamped on the cover of that book was a dark gold crest. A snake eating its own tail, with a bleeding ruby for an eye. The Ouroboros crest of the Valerius vampire clan.

With shaky breath, Nadia parted her lips to take it in. Meanwhile, Valkyrie stared at her reflection, having her new personal maid fix her outfit. She was wearing a fine long red velvet gown that flowed behind her. Her jewelry was beautiful and her long hair was styled with crystal stone adorning it. Magnus stepped in to check her attire, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. "Radiant," he mumbled, walking to stand before her. "You're a stunning future Grand Luna." "Is she really dead?" Valkyrie asked queitly, meeting his gaze through the mirror. "We haven't heard any word from the Sacred Moon wing neither have you heard from the people you sent?"