Tales Of Arise Devil Arms นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Asura gripped the bodies of the bandits who did not let Arya stand up. He burned their faces and bodies to ashes. Fortunately, the bandits chose to back away from Raka's body. They all trembled at the sight of a tall creature with a hideous appearance. This was the first time they had seen the true form of the devil. Some of them even fell to the ground with their mouths wide open. "What do you want?" Asura turned to his friend.

She pushed her red long curls down from her shoulders, and stared at him with her red eyes, “Why should I? I’m here now. Why should I go back?” “Can you just not get on my nerves tonight?” Devi rolled her eyes and put her hand on his right shoulder, placing her chin on it, she looked at sleeping Reina. “Is this your dinner? You know how much I love human blood, can I join you?” “She’s not my dinner, and you can’t join me. Unless…you would like me to tear you apart?” Aryan smiled sinisterly. Devi’s laughter echoed softly through the room, her red eyes felt like they were dancing. "Oh, Aryan, always the charming one, aren't you? Such a shame you can't appreciate the finer things in life."

His fingers slid up her arms, teasing, taunting, before gripping her wrists and forcing them against her stomach. “You don’t get to cry for another man when you belong to me,” he murmured. Hema gasped, struggling harder, but her body only pressed tighter against his. A cruel smirk tugged at Zayden’s lips as he felt her trembling. He loved this. Loved how easily he could control her with just his words, his touch. And then— “Bring the child.” Hema’s body snapped upright. Her pulse froze. She turned her head in panic—just in time to see Ara being carried in by one of his men.

Aris was guiding Devon’s tiny hand as they painted together on a canvas. Devon giggled, his sweet laughter filling the air, a stark contrast to the usually grim demeanor of Aris. The sight was almost surreal. Aris’s expression softened as he patiently helped Devon hold the brush correctly. “Like this, little one,” Aris murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You need to be steady, or the paint will smudge.” Devon looked up at him, his eyes wide with admiration and concentration. “Like this?” he asked, his tiny hand mimicking the older man’s movements.

“Your mind says no, but your blood… your blood is singing for me. You’re learning to enjoy the cage, Arielle.” “I’m learning to survive the monster,” I countered, though my body told a different story. He lifted me effortlessly, pinning me against the wall. The silk of my robe slid down my shoulders, leaving me exposed to his burning gaze. For the first time, I didn’t feel like a victim. I felt like a storm. I reached out and raked my nails down his back, mimicking the scars I had seen. Girard let out a low, guttural groan, his eyes flashing pure, brilliant gold. The “Devil” was surfacing, and for the first time, I wasn’t afraid. I was the one holding the flame to the fuse.

Arthur placed his sword in its sheath “Whatever the case may be, he will start showing signs any day now. I can’t wait to see what he can actually do, once his body attunes to the natural laws of the universe.” “Well it wasn’t easy setting up that ruse to glitch the randomizer. By the way, you talk about him almost as if he might be stronger than you,” Merlin taunted with a smirk. “He’s half a millenia too young to be able to stand against me. Do me a favor and have Myrddin give my father the report. On that note, I’m going to head to bed as well. Good luck in your matches, Merlin.” “Good luck to those who have to deal with me.”

Dominic continued typing commands into the terminal, launching defensive countermeasures that corralled the attackers, turning the terminal into a deadly trap. Minutes stretched like hours, each second filled with tension, adrenaline, and unspoken connection. Their shoulders brushed as they moved side by side, elbows bumping, hands close but focused. Each shared glance carried more than just survival, it carried trust, desire, and a simmering fire neither had admitted yet. The attackers surged again, this time more recklessly. Elara fired in controlled bursts, taking down two more before a third lunged toward her side. Dominic reacted instantly, his rifle cutting the man down with a single,

They were unaware of my identity, their memories and mine diverging as swiftly as a river branching into separate tributaries. Emilio Vargas, the leader of the Black Shadow, exuded authority as he entered first. His piercing eyes were like twin obsidian orbs that took in every detail of the room. I knew him as the puppeteer, the mastermind behind the cartel's operations. I had fantasized about taking him down, but nothing seemed to stick on them; they had paid puppets in every step.

Personally, I think Ally got much of her design ideas from the succubae and incubi homes. Madam Delia, as I discovered was her name, made me comfortable with the talent of someone who lived to take advantage of others’ needs. After a cup of tea, idle chit-chat and a kiss on the cheek, Dareios excused us and dragged me from the cottage, his mood clearly bordering on sadistic. “Are you finding it fun to rub my heritage in my face?” he fumed, flinging me ahead of him without a care. “What the hell are you going on about?” I replied, aghast.

Still, Yara didn't cry. "I see, huh?" Damian whispered between kisses, his tone low and dangerous. "You think by being this strong, you can beat me? No one can fight Damian Devatra. Not even you." Yara let out a short breath, the blood on her lips starting to flow faster, but she looked at Damian with hateful eyes. "You will not win, Damian. Hurting me like this only shows how weak you are. A real man doesn't need to torture to feel powerful."