Tokyo Ghoul White Reaper 소설 & 이야기

Kaelion stood beside them, his cloak billowing despite the still air, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “They’re close,” he said. Aria nodded. “I feel them.” The Reapers. She didn’t know how many. She didn’t know what they wanted. But she knew they weren’t here to talk. Her mark flared. Kaelion stepped forward, his body tense, his voice low. “Stay behind me.” Aria didn’t argue. She didn’t want to. — The first Reaper emerged from the mist like a blade drawn from shadow. Tall. Cloaked. Masked. His armor shimmered with runes that pulsed in rhythm with the ley lines. His eyes glowed faintly—not silver like Kaelion’s, but red. Cold. Final.

More than a dozen zombies were thrown into the air, and White tiger took the opportunity to jump out of them. But at this time, the white tiger's fur had been torn open. Blood kept flowing out and dripped to the ground along the white tiger hair. White tiger's eyes were filled with rage. The spear shadow and the blue-red sword radiance swept across the sky. With a series of cracking sounds, the rushing Corpse Tide was torn open. But at this time, Xander Faris was very clear that the arc of Solana Gibson's Ghoul-Locker Spear and the sword radiance of Omar Pine were much smaller than before.

he said, voice low, filled with something that sounded like sorrow—and rage. Light exploded around us and the tomb trembled as if the world itself recoiled and as darkness swallowed me, I heard it, his heartbeat, steady and ancient, thudding in perfect time with mine. That was the night the Reaper woke.

Elara’s POV “It might be a bright idea for you to step out of the shadows,” I said calmly. A few seconds passed before a man materialized inside the room. His face was covered with a mask. He lifted his arm and showed me a tattoo etched into the back of his palm. “Reaper. I have come to take your life,” he growled. The Reapers. One of the greatest assassin guilds in the country. “Do you have any idea where you are? This is Caelthorn territory.”

[Gia's POV] Death then proceeded with setting up a small ritual around the altar and began chanting words that were foreign and unintelligible to me. As he chanted his voice began to grow louder and take on an ethereal quality. His body seemed illuminated by an unseen light source and his eyes were momentarily drawn into two bright golden orbs before shifting back again into the deep red that they were prior. The two reapers had begun chanting in unison with him without pause while standing motionless at either side of the altar—staring straight ahead with vacant expressions on their faces.

This was like a flea trying to stop a tidal wave. --- ## Chapter 34: The Emerald Siege The White Wolf—the manifestation of our city’s collective soul—was a majestic, terrifying sight. It leapt through the air, its paws of chrome light finding purchase on the hull of the lead Reaper ship. Each strike of its claws sent shards of obsidian raining down like black glass, and its roar was a frequency that shattered the emerald spores before they could infect the ground. But it was alone. And the Reapers were a legion.

Gami immediately hooked the scythe on the soul sucker's neck and removed the blade from Jayden's body. Claire's eyes widened when she saw that at the tip of Gami's scythe blade, there were countless souls. It's like smoke in the form of a human silhouette. White and black. But there are more white ones. "Damn this bastard!" Gami said angrily and released Jayden's body. He immediately decomposed and became dust blown away by the wind. Gami took something from inside its cloak. Black card. Or maybe it's just that. "Darn! The loss is greater than the gain," he said in dismay. The soul reaper approached Claire. He stood next to her and shook his head.

"Keep it steady!" I regained my footing between the bags, aimed, then took another two shots. One hit his upper arm, the other his shoulder, but he kept coming, unfazed by the gushing holes. I shifted my weight onto my other foot and grinned. I might not have stopped him, but the Thornblood dipped bullets had punctured him, binding shade and host to the same satisfying fate. I fired one last time, hitting him strait between his soulless eyes.

Their veins were brittle, and their internal organs were being consumed by a cold, lightless rot that mirrored the very scythes they carried. The ground suddenly groaned as a massive obsidian platform descended from the indigo cliffs. Standing at the center was a figure who looked like a dark mirror of my husband. He was taller than the other Reapers: his skin a translucent graphite black that pulsed with a sickly grey fire. This was Malakor: the Reaper King. He held a scythe of pure compressed void that hummed with a frequency so low it made my teeth ache.

she teased. "I doubt that he will even take notice of them, Ayira," I mumbled softly and she rolled her eyes and sighed, "you'll see." I held her hand while her other wrapped possessively around her box of cookies as we began to enter the city of reapers. Ayira's eyes widened and traveled around the entire area as she soaked in all the unusual sights. "This looks similar to a human city, Deagon," she mumbled softly and added, "The Grim reaper is the ruler of all you reapers?" I nodded my head and laughed at her seriousness.