Novel & Cerita Spare Me Great Lord Mal

I was being dragged through the snow like a dying dog by a male who used to bow his head when I walked into a room. "Unconscious, treacherous bastard!" I shrieked, spitting a mouthful of hot blood and soot toward Lucien’s heavy leather boots. "You touch me with those filthy gauntlets?! I am Maelis! I am the Lord of the Northern Vane! I built this empire while your father was still bleeding in the mud!" Lucien didn't even turn his head. He merely tightened his grip on the heavy chain, yanking my collar so hard my head snapped back against the frost.

He took the advantage of the situation to create his deadly attribute and shot straight into his heart disregarding the explosion sound next to the man. “Argh!” Was Hamid's last words before he breathed out his last breath. “Hamid!” The lord realized the crown prince belatedly. Unapologetically, his eyes lit up at the existence of the lord. He nudged the lavender eye man. “Mal, he is the one, right?” Mal or the lavender eye man with the buffiest body scoffed. It was enough of an answer. Mischievously, he delved his hands into his pocket. “I see, you’re over there Khairul.”

the general said as he saw the light from the dungeon’s entrance, they were near the stairs leading outside. “Therens where are you!” General Malta shouted as he quickly stabbed Goryo’s back and push the sword so hard making the entire blade of the sword buried in the devil’s back. The devil lost his balance as his body tossed on the ground, he groan loudly catching the attention of the men outside.

Malachi didn't hold back, “It's simple. I have stayed in that illusion longer than you have. Naturally, I know what's happening.” Not in a million years did Jordan ever think of sitting and discussing anything with him. Not to mention he had harbored killing intentions towards him but here they were. Victims of the same fate. “You know who has been kidnapping, erasing memory and hiding those supernaturals?” Malachi held a look as if recalling a distant memory, “Lord Flame. The keeper and destroyer of the underworld.”

At its center, seated upon the throne of obsidian, was the one who had shaped me into what I had become. Lord Malakar. His presence was overwhelming, even after all these years. Cloaked in shadow, his form was barely distinguishable from the darkness itself. Only his eyes—burning red like mine—pierced through the gloom. I dropped to one knee, bowing my head in respect. "My Lord." His voice echoed through the chamber, ancient and filled with power. "Rise, Raven." I obeyed, meeting his gaze without fear. "The battle?" he asked.

"You are in Anceps now. Do not worry, this place is sacred by protection spell, so any magical creature will not harm you, if you are afraid of them." "Who the hell says that I am afraid of some messed-up rabbits? Or whatever, I am not afraid of anything, okay?" he snarled at her and kept trying to sit up while leaning on his elbows. "I am the Lord of Life! "But it looks like the Lord of Life is suffering from broken bones and you really broke the poor Moriah's hips. Chu-hh, so bad," she made a sympathetic sound by her mouth. "It pretty much does hurt, doesn't it? I think...a few pieces of Bonesbane would fix the broken bones," she smirked lightly, watching him

"His family runs half of Europe's pharmaceutical trade. Polite as hell off the field. Completely ruthless on it." "Twenty two?" "Audric Sterling. Old English money, He's been in three separate disciplinary hearings this year and walked out of all of them without a single mark on his record." "And number four?" A pause. "Zian Castillo," Marcus says. "Half Spanish, half Korean." Another pause, heavier this time. "Don't get on his bad side." "Good to know." "I'm serious." The warning itself is off character for someone like Marcus who clearly seems to hate me.

My fingers twitch, but that’s all I can do. Then I see him. High Priest Malavor. The moment our eyes meet, something cold crawls down my spine. His smile is thin and stretched too wide, as if it were carved on. “You wake sooner than expected,” he says, his voice full of satisfaction. “Good. I want you to be aware.” My voice comes out as a whisper. “Where… is Aurek?” Malavor’s smile widens. “Ah. The beast. He is coming, yes, but far too late.”

"I'm not afraid. I gave my word I wouldn't harm any of your people, but I never promised that my followers won't attack you if I'm killed. So you see, Baal, one way or another, tonight you will die." Malcolm swallowed hard. He'd already figured as much. The prayers of one priest and three friends were not enough. God had abandoned him long ago. "Are you ready?" Stephan drew his sword. Malcolm drew his own sword. A gift from Van nilsen, it was razor sharp, the steel blade plated with pure silver. The hilt was steel and leather and fit perfectly in his hand. He swished the blade through the air and saluted Stephan. He allowed himself one last thought of Aya, then focused his mind on one thing

"You think you can hide behind the old magic?! You think this mortal girl changes anything?! I will burn this entire glen to ash! I will dig up every sacred stone with my own bare hands! You hear me, brother?! I am taking my throne!" Inside the Grand Hall, Maeve watched the scrying pool with a grim, tightening jaw. Malakai’s shrill, echoing screech of “LUCIAN!” seemed to vibrate directly out of the bleeding ink, filling the ancient hall with the ugly, desperate venom of a cornered beast.