Christopher Martin
Stories
7
Chapters
2,157
Words
806.3 K
Comments
0
Reading
2 d, 19 h
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"It's Cleo Loras!" "That's her? She's so beautiful!" The men whooped in a low tone and slobbered at the appearance of the beauty, while the women revealed a false smile to hide their quivering sneers. 'I have to leave. NOW!' Markus's mind blared at him earnestly. "And with that, the Outer Division Ranking Tournament comes to a close," the girl spoke with a pleasant, sing-song voice. The crowd around Markus turned silent and everyone assumed their seats. 'Shit! I can't leave now or else I will stand…-
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"Is that the best you've got?!" "Not by a long shot! Try defending this!" Markus observed the fight on stage with an unwavering gaze. The two combatants collided once again, one sword against another, causing a small shockwave to spread out. Both of them appeared to be on the verge of collapse, one with a fractured arm and another with multiple shattered ribs, both of which could easily be fixed with a small sip of a regenerative potion. In his time as a mage, Markus had only ever participated in a…
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"Pathetic!" In the stands embedded in the cliff-side at the back of the auditorium, within one of the more elaborate covered viewing boxes, a girl barely into her mid-teens, spat out in disgust at the "embarrassing" display below her. Her piercing blue eyes were languid as they scanned over the two individuals confronting each other on stage. She shifted a strand of her void-black hair draped over her eyes and on her marble-like smooth skin, behind her ear. "Why am I here again?" She exclaimed. "There…
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Most of the "public" sections of the Sect were constructed outside the mountain, unlike the Archives. Thanks to that, Markus was able to enjoy the magnificent architecture in its entirety. It was the only thing he could do to distract himself from all the unpleasantness around him. Although he had tuned out the bullying and corrupt practices proliferating around him, he just couldn't get himself to immerse into the Sect's culture and ambience. For some reason, he kept feeling a sense of rejection pulsing…
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"You're short! There are only three phials here, our agreement was for ten," a teenage boy dressed in a white robe with indigo and gold clouds embroidered on it chided with a disdainful frown on his face. "I'm sorry Senior. The collection has become much harder given the increase in the... demand. I believe there are three more members from the Outer Division reporting to Senior," another teenager responded with a painfully deep bow. He was garbed in a black robe with similar embroidery minus the gold…
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The Cloudstrider Sect started some 5000 years ago - after the Age of Isolation - making it one of the older sects in the scene. To that end, their Archive was chock-full of data crystallising their rich operating history and beyond. As Guy added more and more books into the RoK, he entered a fugue state of semi-consciousness. This was a first for him, a usual speed-reading session never took him to such a level of immersion. What he was experiencing at the moment was magical through and through. Imagine…
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Guy and Markus followed the bald figure leading them through the alleys within the sect as it weaved through the carved out floating mountain. However, rather than observing the intricate architecture and beautiful structures around them, the Master and Disciple were wholly enraptured by the reflective, semi-spherical surface bobbing up and down in front of them. "He's definitely in the Core Formation realm. I can't gauge his cultivation," Guy explained in a low whisper. "But then why is he bald?" Markus…
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A/N: The conversation inside the tent was getting to long and I didn't want to end the week with a cliffhanger. So here is a bonus to move the story forward. :) ____ A man massaged his silver beard while gazing into the horizon with a vigorous sheen in his eyes. His lips parted into a devious smile as his senses locked onto the approaching figure of another man, followed by a still adolescent gryphon carrying two individuals. His attention quickly diverted from the critters incapable of flight and the…
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The Gryphon named Garrud was Al's familiar. A familiar is a being of another species tied in a pseudo-master-slave relationship with a mage. The bond is at the soul level, is hence an irreversible process, and is generally a mutually beneficial relationship. As the mage progresses in their cultivation, the familiar receives positive feedback in theirs which helps them advance, and vice-versa. However, due to the ingrained nature of this bond, should either party face a catastrophe of fatal proportions, the…
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Krish hummed contemplatively while staring at the two kids who animatedly denied his divination. This wasn't the first time someone denied his prophecies so vehemently right to his face. Over the years, Krish had come to realise the juxtaposition of the human mentality. Whenever Krish's divination revealed beneficial truths or facts, the recipients are quick to accept it - overjoyed even. However, the moment the divinations revealed proclamations that run contrary to the recipient's expectations, they…
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