The Armourer Novels & Stories

I can be a handful, but only because I can take care of myself and don’t need babysitters. I do feel bad for them though, hence why I like to give them breaks – which they refuse to take. Not only are these two stuck standing guard in front of whatever room I’m in, but they have to do it covered head to toe in armour. Looks amazing, but I wouldn’t want to wear it. The armour is made from graphene, it’s flexible and elastic while being strong and lightweight. The beauty of this particular armour is that it’s been imbued with makkari magic. The armour is sentient, to a degree. It can sense the species of the attacking enemy and alter itself accordingly. So, if say a sirna was attacking them, t

Without warning it zoomed punching the two primate straight in the face bursting the moving water right from their face as their body where thoroughly smashed into the ground. “Hey tell me how is an infamous armour from the Inhumane in the arms of a low Humane like you? if you could still hear the sane words coming out from my mouth.” The one holding a shimmering sword questioned still laying on the ground. “This is… the armour that was past down to me… from generation to… generation.” The being spoke in a strident tone as he rose his upper body up in clinks. “You… broads there, make your first move and do tell… who is more useless.”

As Roland galloped through the streets, his elegant linen garments billowed in the breeze, offering glimpses of the sturdy chainmail and armour concealed beneath. The sight of the armour caused the citizens to widen their eyes in recognition. It was clear that Roland's attire was of the highest quality. Their assumptions were spot-on. For this particular outing, I had equipped Roland with Grade III magic chainmail and armour, meticulously refined by the system. His attire was tailor-made to complement his class as a Demonic Monk, ensuring unrestricted movement and durability in battle. "Did you see that guy? There's something about him that's just captivating. It's like my eyes are fixated o

Their focus is razor-sharp, the tension palpable. Kayden pulls on his leather chest plate, cinching the laces with meticulous care. Jayden, in turn, sharpens a broadsword, each stroke a whisper promising vengeance. As for me, I tighten the straps of my lightweight armour, feeling the cool touch of metal against my skin, a comforting shield against the storm of emotions raging within me.

"Your grandmother is one of the owners of the agency La Arma, but no one in her family knew then." "La Arma? What is that?" He breathed deeply again. "I will tell you about that, but La Arma is now also under your name." "What is it?" He ruffled my hair a little. "For now, don't worry about it. Your daddy is in charge of La Arma in the meantime." "But Gianna, she knows about La Arma. "Yes. Those two are also close, but in front of Merceditas, no. They have to hide it. I don't know what the reason is between the two of them, but when the three of us are together, they always bully me."

They would cleave. A long tail extended from the base of his spine, thick and muscular, tapering to a barbed spear-point. It moved slowly behind him—not restless, not agitated, but alive with controlled awareness. The barbed tip scraped faintly against the obsidian floor once before stilling, leaving a thin line in the soot-dusted stone. His armour was not polished. It was functional.

"We have something for you. Something to make sure everyone knows exactly who they're dealing with." They set the cases down on the table. Silas clicked the latches and swung the lid open. My breath hitched. Resting in the foam was a suit of armor unlike anything I’d ever seen. It wasn't the dull silver of the guard or the black of the scouts. It was a deep, bruised crimson—the color of drying blood, polished to a mirror sheen. "It’s dark red," I whispered, reaching out to touch the cold metal of the breastplate.

"Why the heck do you keep calling me boss? Stop that." "Boss, you saved me earlier, I am just trying to respectful." Vance replied, "Also, you haven't told me your name, boss. I also don't think I have seen you before." "..." The armored man abruptly paused and didn't say anything. "Boss, I understand if you don't want to tell me your name... and if you don't like it, I can call you something else. Even an alias is fine." This armored-man was no-one else but Creed wearing his armor type Soul Armas: 'Slither-Hide' that he got from killing the 'Shuma Slither'.

“Good morning, please come closer, I will take your blood for a moment, it’s not that hurt but you can close your eyes if you afraid” The lady says it like she already repeated it as a template for her entire career as a nurse here. Arthur pushed my wheelchair closer to the nurse, his eyes meet my eyes, and he notices the fear within me. He held out his hand to me, trying to calm me down. And I accept his helping hand, hold it so tight to disguise the needle prick in my skin. I remember I hold his hand so tight, really tight ‘till I can feel the warmth of his palm.

Heart-cleansing Sword Feng Xingyue brandished and became one with his sword, attacking. Now that the battle had reached his stage, no one dared to hold blows any longer. Not knowing when, Feng Xingyue had already got into silver armor. He looked splendidly ravishing and light shimmered off his body, which made it seem attractive. This was armour of the seventh inscription rank. Called the Hidden Sword Armour, it was one of the treasures of the renowned Heart-cleansing City- who knew that it would actually be in his hands?