The First Legendary Beast Master Wiki Novels & Stories

We were reaching the base of the Bone Tower. ​Up close, the tower was horrifying. It was built from thousands of bones—ribs, skulls, and limbs—all fused together into a smooth, white surface. There were no windows, only a single door at the bottom made of black iron. ​Standing in front of the door was the largest monster we had seen yet. It was fifteen feet tall, with four arms and a head like a wolf. It wasn't made of smoke. It was made of solid, black stone. ​"This is the First Beast," I said. "The one Silas told us about."

WHAT! My knees weakened, my head became too heavy… urging me to bow. What? No. What are you doing? I hissed at my beast, battling that instinct. Master. The deep growl from my inner beast shot through me like a jolt. My beast and I rarely communicated. So the fact that she did unnerved me and before I could bask in that, what she said clicked. Master? We do not have a master! Revandrel is not, was never, and will never be—our master. What are you saying!?

The beast was twice the height of a muscular man she’d ever seen—with a bone crest, four split jaws that open like a flower of fangs. ​His eyes had no pupils, only pits of endless night that could reflect my deepest fear. His body was covered in jagged obsidian scales and raw muscles; bone plates protruded like armor from his spine and limbs. Her hand flew to her mouth as she took a step back at the sight of his claws, long enough to pierce through her body in one swipe. Fear clawed in Kaerith's chest as her fingers shakily found the simple ties at her waist and loosened them.

That was when I realized those eyes weren’t Knight’s, so it was his beast all along. “I can accept anyone calling me that,” he continued. “But my mate… my future Luna… will call me by my name. Only my name.” He leaned toward my neck, lips brushing the skin lightly, making my breath shatter. “Or,” he whispered, “you can give me a daring name to claim me with.” “There is no difference between a beast and a monster,” I muttered. His grip tightened dangerously. “Do not provoke me.” Taking in a deep breath and at the same time desperate to break the moment, I blurted, “But a beast needs a real name. Like Knight has his. What’s yours?”

In my previous life, I was completely fooled by her masterful performance. My elder sister, Victoria Songworth, had always been vain about her beauty. She frequently used royal expeditions as excuses to visit the beast kingdoms and seduce their nobles. However, after having her fun, she would claim that even the most powerful beast aristocrats were still crude foreigners beneath her station. Knowing she could not end things cleanly, she left those three beastmen with ambiguous parting words before conspiring with Mother to stage this elaborate performance. She got her clean escape, but I was left to bear the consequences when those three beastmen marked me as the killer of their beloved. I p

Symbols appeared in the air—glyphs of oath and sacrifice, of blood and fire. “Zara—no!” Maxim’s growl came from somewhere deep, primal. “You don’t understand what you’re offering.” “Yes, I do,” she said, stepping into the circle. “You said yourself—the Beast has no master. But maybe it doesn’t need one. Maybe it just needs an equal.” The words cut through the roar of the fire, sharp and impossibly soft. For a heartbeat, the ritual hesitated, as if even the flames were listening. Then the circle erupted.

'' Celia is a witch , Stella is fairy , Adam is Swordsman , Albert is spell caster '' the master said . '' What about that little girl ?'' asked Arthur . '' I am not a little girl , i am one hundred years old you fool , i can erase your existence from this world '' she shouted . '' Calm down , Noir is , her existence is closer to gods in this world she's the god , there's no magic or spell that she cannot use '' the master said . '' And what about you master ?'' asked Arthur . '' Me ? i am well a magician along with giants ability '' replied the master . '' She's the strongest here '' said Noir . '' Yes i have'nt been able to beat her yet '' said Adam .

One moment, he is enjoying a good fuck from an Alpha, and the next moment—here he is, trying his best not to skin himself alive. There are voices inside his head that are way louder than his own voice. Those voices keep on reminding him that he is an Omega—just an Omega. The lowest of the lowest. The ‘thing’ who’s only goal in life is to be played by those fucking Alphas. A nothing. A sudden crawl of goosebumps invaded his whole body. He can literally feel how hard his heart is hammering inside his chest. He called Cross ‘master’. Master. He looks at his reflection once again and laughs hysterically.

“Of course there are other ways... remain a beast tamer and pray you meet other mystical beasts and entrap them in your arerat symbol, where I'll transform them into true essence for you to make consecutive breakthroughs... which I guess you're already an expert in.” It sounded like a nice idea... it's like saying, wait for the day when a banknote falls from the sky... it's feasible right? Where do I damn get mystical beasts in illusionary worlds?! I mean... even the Beast Hunters claimed that they couldn't identify that crimson-eyed mystical tiger... meaning, even here in this illusionary world, it was still really rare! “What other way?” I asked. “Be a formation master!” “Huhn?” “Formation

"But they’re being harvested. The Legion isn't attacking their bodies; they're attacking their connections to the world. They’re turning the wolves into anchors for the void." Suddenly, the ground at the center of the valley heaved. It didn't burst open; it folded back like skin. From the fissure rose a figure that made the High Magister look like a mere apprentice. It was a skeletal giant, its "skin" a patchwork of ancient, yellowed scrolls and human vellum, held together by needles of obsidian. This was the **Archivist of Bone**, a creature from the era before the first Great Pack was ever formed. In its hand, it carried a staff topped with a skull that pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly green