Templar Knight Code Novels & Stories

"I don't need you to protect me. Your love will be enough for me to fight till my last breath." ~ Regan "My love for you is mercenary. Don't expect something that you will never get from me." ~ Lincoln . . . Regan Wells (Maria Turgenev) It started the day in senior high, a game of revenge that I was unaware of at that time. He starts the battle of the unknown with me, a girl with a lost memory against him, a handsome bully with his demons.

"The badge he just tossed out is the badge belonging to the Knights Templar's top True Warrior, and there's only half of it. You're all with the Knight Templars. You know what this means!" Half of the top True Warrior's badge? All of them froze, and their bodies stiffened. Their faces turned pale with fear and disbelief. They all came from the Knights Templar, and they had heard the rumors. For instance, the tale of the top True Warrior lost to another True Warrior from Country H in just three moves. Just as the top warrior believed that he was going to die, his opponent simply took half his badge, saying that he had the potential to become even stronger. He looked forward to fighting him ag

He said. The gate violently opened blowing away the venerable iron wolves and great templars were thrown out the gate as they held the chains of restriction. The surge of murderous intent that flowed out of the gate overwhelmed some of the strongest templars as they erected a powerful telepathic field protecting the denizens before they all fell to the maddening rage of the knight. Kent walked out of the gate as the darkness enveloped him and slowly filled the arena. The Templars were barely able to hold back the maddening rage as he unleashed a terrifying roar breaking the barrier as the dark mist pulled itself back creating a cloak around him.

Up they rose, one by one, to stand before the God. The first was astride a dappled horse. His body was burned and the remnants of his clothing clung to him, melted into the remaining flesh. The sign of a red cross gave evidence to his former life as a templar. A sword was still in his hand. Eyes long gone, he relied on sound alone. The second stood without a steed, wielding a spear. A leather tunic protecting his well-formed chest, half eaten by the waves of sand he had lain under.

’ He walked up to them with Mage Silas that morning. He was clad in an all-white tunic, his golden hair flowing down his back just like that of a maiden. If his chest wasn’t half exposed, Langrion would have really thought that he was a lady. His feathery eyelashes, the soft curves of his cheek, and the ethereal features of his eyes and lips were as comely as a maiden’s. He had actually blushed when Langrion looked at him for a long time. “Is there anything on my face? You’re staring at it for too long,” Templar said. His subdued voice could be easily mistaken for a girl too.

He hadn’t said it, but I could feel it in him: some shard of purpose had clicked into place. The sub-chamber wasn’t protected by steel or concrete. Just a collapsed chapel, its foundation sunk into the slope like a scar. Moss clung to the corners. The only modern element was a false altar wired to a biometric lock. I keyed in Paladin’s final passcode: 1701—his birth date. The altar shifted with a mechanical groan, revealing stairs spiraling downward into cold dark. Callum clicked on a light. The beam swept over stone walls etched with data—literal engravings of code, optical patterns woven into the architecture. Not storage. A vault.

“He drank blood?” “He was biting people’s throats out, I don’t think drinking their blood while he was at it is an unrealistic leap, do you?” He asks pointedly. “That’s a good point, and now that you mention it, he’s starting to sound familiar, and I don’t mean because he’s named after an iconic fictional vampire. As for the first victim, I’m pretty sure he is an assassin who went by the Codename Castrati, so named because he was fond of emasculating his male victims and keeping the parts as a souvenir. Or at least I assume so since the appendages were never found." My words make Silas squirm and cross his legs, and I hide my amusement at his discomfort. “I hadn’t seen him at the last Tourna

The smell of antiquity and trinkets hits the half-elf's face like a stone. Opening the document, the magician shows her all the fancy text, official stamps, and the most important part of all: the signature at the bottom. Kirus Avirnan. Her father. She simply cannot believe her eyes. Eric sympathizes with the situation, showing understanding: "He couldn't tell you, anyway, or anyone else. He was under oath." The girl says nothing, still trying to absorb the shock. The blond man continues: "He and another group of thirty-six Templars have been dispatched. They are living in remote places of the world, hidden from the populace."

he said to Rhett, who looked down at the vibrator that he held and then looked up with a slow smile. “We have not been formally introduced,” Talen’s smile was wicked as he began to unbutton his shirt. “I am Talen Gawaine, of the Concordia. And you are?” “Heath Gale, Cameron Edison, and Rhett Salem of the Les Guerriers Sanctifies Triquetra,” Heath had recovered sufficiently to respond with his normal aplomb. He lifted his chin. “We have an accord with the Concordia.”

"You are my Anchor. I need you to touch me. I need stabilization now. Or I shift fully. I will kill the mercenaries. Then I will kill you." The choice was raw. If I touched him, I risked contamination. If I refused, I risked immediate, feral death. "Tell me the code," I demanded. "The Thorne global safe word." Rian hesitated. "Unnecessary." "Now," I pressed. "Or I scream for the mercenaries." Rian closed his eyes. He released a shuddering breath. He was fighting the shift. "It is Tantalus," he grated out. "Thorne code. Tantalus, Elara."