Snake With A Hundred Mage Hands Novels & Stories

Drago had a death grip on her arm, trying to calm her, but who could be calm at a time like this? The golden beast lumbered toward them, then stopped directly in front of Drago, letting out a low growl, steam puffing from it’s huge nostrils. When Drago growled in return, Madchen jumped, trying to free herself from Drago’s grip, but he wasn’t letting her go.

"This black little snake is not ordinary," Ding Hao thought. He felt from it a pressure not lesser than that of the giant ape with three heads and six arms. "If I'm right, it is also an ominous beast with some magic skills." "How did it find me?" Ding Hao thought.

“You’ll feel better soon.” Suddenly, purple glowing energy was emitted from her hands, washing over the giant snake until it was sealed in her magical glow. The cuts and torn flesh of the snake began to heal, sealing shut. His tongue forked out, licking at the air. He vibrated, making a hissing and humming noise. His entire body shook violently, and then, all of a sudden, a man replaced the body of the snake. The man had long, inky hair, curling in wet coils. His skin was tanned. His body was toned.

The snake bit him on his neck before he panics, and due to his generous explanation, the venom only paralyzes him. As everyone else initiates the attack, I enchant the floor to divide it into multiple islands and underneath is an illusion of the hell's hole. With every 10 fingers having tiny enchasts, I created multiple sucking dimensions randomly in this tornado of illusion and it pulls them in. They may have the advantage with numbers but I have the advantage with power. This isn't unfair after all.

Nine huge ferocious red-black snakes hissed and roared terrifyingly. They soared into the sky and pounced on the six gods! Their huge jaws dripped with stinking mucus! One snake bared its fangs and wanted to swallow Fennel in one bite! The corners of Fennel's eyes were cold and stern as he stared at the snake. He raised his hand, and a red dragon halberd suddenly stabbed at the snake’s huge jaw! Poof!

He takes my hand and says, “Because, Miss Serra, you have no choice but to trust me. You have no one. No husband. No in-laws. No power in your Kingdom. And your family? I doubt they will be able to recognize you.” I sniffle softly. Here I am, a wounded mage who can barely use magic anymore. A hideous mage who has fallen from grace and living off Caius’ charity and pity. “And besides, Miss Serra. Don’t you want to take revenge against your husband? The Lycan King Gideon Dunkerson?”

Spreading her hands while she spoke and splaying her fingers out, she drew them in a wide arc, and while doing so, blood-red silk-like curtains drooped from a branch, and as she turned herself in a circle, the silk linked each of the tree branches surrounding them. Skul added his own flair by pointing his right hand at certain places and clicking his fingers, and as he did, white fur appeared in large clumps, sitting neatly over the red silk. Once he was done, he smiled approvingly and nodded, “Come let us feast, then let the magic begin!” he announced, clapping his hands together.

Kema's team was already there. The scene was one of ruthless coordination. A female mage with a scar across her right eye stood at the forefront, her hands glowing green as thick vines snaked up from the earth to entangle a snarling werewolf—from its yellow eyes and bloodstained fur, it was likely the same werewolf that had fled at the sound of Kema's voice. The beast thrashed wildly, its claws swiping at the air, but the vines held firm. The mage's face was taut with concentration, sweat dripping from her brow as her glowing hands trembled. Another mage moved swiftly, his fists encased in icy blades. With controlled movements, he struck at the rogue, forcing it to stagger back and weakening

"I just need to drink some more elixir." Lankko took out his bottle of magic elixir and was about to open it when all of a sudden, the giant snake creature dropped down from where it was watching them on the roof of the galleries.

Endless blood started to flow, mixing with the white snow. At the snake's last breath, its mouth slowly opened, where Arth saw a purple core appearing. Arth’s legs were shaking when he stood up and walked towards the dead beast. The thick ice that froze its whole body just broke and disappeared. He slowly pulled his sword on top of its head, hearing the sticky sound of the blade, sliding through its flesh. The stinky odor of the beast’s mouth came as Arth picked up the purple core. "I hope one A-class beast is enough," Arth whispered as he looked at the rare core. "That Bran, I'm gonna get that thief."