Strike The Blood Character Mga Nobela at Kwento

The taste of blood—my blood—mixed with Dante’s filled my mouth. “So this is how you fight for a man?” I rasped, spitting on the ground. “Like a coward?” Her lips curled into a cruel smile. She glanced at the floor, then picked up a heavy stick. I barely had time to register the movement before she swung. The blow landed against my head with a sickening thud. My vision swam, the world spinning out of focus. Her voice was the last thing I heard before the darkness took me.

Each strike carried the weight of nine oxen, a primal force that swept away everything in its path. The black-clad man could not withstand the attack. Blood spurted from his mouth as he was sent flying, his body crumpling to the ground like a broken puppet. He curled into himself, blood dripping from his mouth and nose in vivid crimson streams. "How is this possible?" Struggling to his feet, the man stared at Chase, his eyes wide with disbelief. Terror consumed him, his mind reeling from the realization that Chase's strength far exceeded his expectations. "No wonder you're so arrogant. You do have some skills. But... I'm not a fool like Isaiah Stark."

Darkness envelops me, but somehow I still see, even though my eyes are still shut. Or are they? That intense feeling bubbles in my chest again, but this time. It takes over. Pain shoots up my hands as I feel the skin of my fingers tearing apart as it elongates. It’s brutal, scary but there’s a power surge in me that numbs it all. And I strike. Someone shouts and jumps away. I don’t stop swinging my arms, they fly everywhere hitting whatever and whoever is in my line of vision. Everyone scampers, my hands unable to strike anything again.

Unworthy. I spat blood onto the stone floor and lifted my chin. “Still standing.” The murmurs in the crowd grew louder. The she-wolf’s grin widened, dark amusement flashing in her eyes. “Not for long.” She surged forward. This time, I met her head-on. I blocked her first strike, but her second slipped through, her fist slamming into my ribs. White-hot pain exploded in my side, but I didn’t retreat. I twisted, using the force of her blow to spin and drive my elbow into her ribs. A satisfying grunt left her lips as she stumbled a step back.

The Mondragon empire, the mafia world's old king, and his enemy. The enormous man, who looked like he was in his early twenties, called his brother a "pathetic orphan" with harshness in his voice as the man forced his automatic weapon down his brother's throat and continuously pressed the trigger. Every bullet fired at his brother's head felt like a bigger bullet being shot as well into his own heart. He witnessed his brother, Gabriel's own blood gushing from each bullet wound. His entire face was becoming lifeless and deformed, resembling that of a worthless animal.

The half-blood called Leon had speedy reflexes and managed to block the unexpected strike, but he was still flung back many strides away and crashed into the imperial army, killing on impact those who were hit head on. Gallas's eyes widened in disbelief. That startling flash was like a bolt of black lightning. No, it was not even close to calling it lightning. He knew it was the traitor prince' strike – and it was faster than lightning! And judging by how far it had sent Leon flying, the strike was way stronger than the hit he landed on him a while ago. What in the blue blazes?

“Now Solterra has no ruler and completely ruined. I will die happily.” “You, bastard!” I yelled and my hands shook. Without further ado, I sauntered towards him and gave him alluvion of fiery attacks. He welcomed me with an arrogant smirk. He blocked and defended himself but this time I’m faster and more powerful than him. He was thrown away when he was hit. But I got more pissed when he still managed to laugh even when he was already coughing blood. “I think I underestimated you. I didn’t know you are actually more powerful than I expected. You are really something.”

Coming to a door, I eased it open and my anger flared as a bloody scene filled my eyes. Blood. So much fucking blood gushed from the wound on her neck. Who was she? Why did this asshole hurt her? Why was the word, “MINE” echoing in my psyche? Not waiting to get an answer, I pounced. I took the vampire to the floor, slamming the bastard’s head to the floor. A grunt of pain answered the blow but it didn’t faze the asshole. No. this one was damned strong. He pushed me off him and we circled each other.

The figure was well-concealed, but Adrian, now more perceptive, spotted it. "Die!" With a clang, Adrian unsheathed his sword and slashed fiercely at the figure. Swoosh! The sudden sword essence caught the translucent figure off guard, and in an instant, Adrian's powerful attack struck the figure, fueled by all his anger. "No!" the figure screamed miserably. With one strike, Adrian pierced through the figure. Blood spurted out, splattering everywhere. The figure fell to the ground, blood flowing from his mouth. He realized his blood vessels had been severed. He tried to get up and fight again, but he had no strength left.