Romans & histoires Warhammer 40k Saint

He was something else now, a god they’d dressed in music. Her throat tightened. For a moment, she forgot why they were here. Samuel touched her shoulder. “Abbie…” “...I see him.” She didn’t look away. Then a voice behind them: “You don’t belong here.” They spun around. A young man stood a few feet away, no armor, no weapon, but unmistakably Citadel, sleek white uniform, a faint silver glow at his temples where a neural implant pulsed. His dark hair was perfectly kept, his face sharp, too clean for anyone who’d ever set foot in the Ruins.

The voice sounded quite familiar to me. I suddenly paused before starting to drift forward quickly. My soul was bound to the accessory on Xavier's chest—a lucky charm I had gone to great lengths to obtain from a church on the mountain. Judging from the speed at which my soul was being tugged along, Xavier was likely being dragged along the floor by someone. There was no other explanation for it. A gloomy-looking young man with messy hair that pretty much covered his entire face was dragging Xavier across the floor. The young man looked like he wanted to kill someone, and his target was Xavier.

=DISCLAIMER= ©2021 NOT A SAINT written by JL Dane All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. PIRATING CONTENT IS ILLEGAL: If this content is captured and published, the offender can be trace and will face the full extent of the legal ramifications stated by the law.

"Are you drunk, Saint? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" "Hey! You bastard! He is talking to... " Saint didn't let him finish before grabbing the boy's throat, squeezing life out of him. He clawed at his hand desperately but Saint didn't budge while his eyes were on Nicholas. The rest of the goons stood in defense but no one dared to touch him. "Let me repeat myself." Saint's voice thundered. "You will apologise to Gabrielle. Now." Gabrielle rushed to his side, trying to free the almost dead boy from his grip. "You're going to kill him. Saint, please...stop. They don't need to apologise."

The terrifying energy instantly filled the entire hall! F*ck! Darryl's expression changed; he was staring at Moloch closely in shock. Moloch turned out to be someone with the strength of a saint emperor. After staying in the Roland Continent for nearly two months, Darryl learned that there were five cultivation levels—saint master, saint king, saint honor, saint emperor, and saint god. Darryl knew that someone who had reached the level of saint honor was considered remarkable. Back in the Heavenly Star Principality, the Royal Knight Walker was a saint honor.

Her aura swirling around her like a golden protective cloak, her armor as she faces the enemy. Saint is next into the room as his mother stands off against Reece, the queen smiling with an easy manner while Reece looks demented. I still feel my body starting to fade as breathing becomes heavy, I feel weak as Saint works to untie me. Everywhere our skin touch comes alive with the most intoxication sparks from our bond.

“So predictable…” Bishop stepped forward, energy crackling at his fingertips, revealing a power Riven hadn’t fully understood until now. “Do you think you can contain this?” Vex’s eyes gleamed. “And when you fall… I will take what’s mine.” Riven’s hands clenched around his gun. He could feel the ground beneath shaking with their combined power. Luca’s energy pulsed in tandem with his heartbeat, the bond flaring, illuminating every shadow in the room. But suddenly—a deafening crash. The warehouse ceiling cracked, debris falling. A figure emerged from the rubble: Saint. Alive. Or at least… something resembling him. His eyes glowed faintly, not entirely human.

He had lost all his face today. He had to find a way to get it back. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to continue to stay in the grey zone. All ten of these warriors were Martial Saints. They were the foundation of his existence in Tianzhu. He paid a sky-high price for each of them. Now was the time for the ten Martial Saints to show off. "Are you sure you want to fight me?" Yang Xiao stepped forward. The peak-stage power of the God of War shot forth at high speed.

"If we don't know which one it was, I'll just kill all of them then." "You can do that?" Holly whispered. Dagon smirked. "I'm one of the Four Horsemen as well, I can be just as deadly at my brother." "Are you War?" Holly asked. If he was as strong as Death he had to be an important one. "No," Dagon frowned. "War is an odd one. If Death has found you, War is not too far away. But I won't let them near you. Just trust me." "No," Holly replied. "I barely know you. For all I know, you could just be trying to trick me."

Demi-Saint! The realization dawned on Earl Greenfield that demi-saints were individuals at the pinnacle of power. Except for the Saints, no one could rival their might. These were formidable beings capable of decimating cities and causing widespread chaos. Compared to them, a mere Earl like himself seemed insignificant, akin to ants in their eyes. Despite his usual calm and composed demeanor, Earl Greenfield couldn't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that a demi-saint was on his side. The reassurance of having such a powerful ally alleviated some of his apprehensions.