Jennifer Williams
Stories
12
Chapters
3,221
Words
2.4 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 6 h
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Rosalind pursed her lips as she tried to avoid one of the sharp rocks by the side of the cliff. The sound of the rain against the rocks caught her attention. The sun had already set, and the pursuers had left this area, but she had encountered another problem. The rain. It was something that she never thought of while running away. Her carelessness was unforgivable. After all, she still has things to do— people that she needed to face. Still, she considered herself lucky as they found a small cave…
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"My lady, I think we should rest." Milith held her chest as she tried to catch her breath. "You just recovered from a fever last week. You can't exhaust yourself." Rosalind looked back at her maid. Then she nodded and looked around the snow that had started to cover the once healthy green foliage. They were never meant to come here. The snow was a sign that they are moving closer and closer to the north where it snows for ten months of the year. "Shall we go back?" Rosalind asked. "But I have yet…
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Rosalind frowned as the light hit her eyes. She blinked several times in confusion. Wasn't she dead? Her brows furrowed as she surveyed the room, taking in the peeling brown walls, the scratched wooden floor, the pathetic set of furniture… Wasn't this her room from a long, long time ago? As she looked around in panic, her eyes caught sight of her pale, jadelike hands. Hands she had lost years ago with the blessing. When the Goddess stripped her of the blessing, her skin had shriveled up as if…
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Rosalind Lux-Sencler had always thought that her worst nightmare would be waking up in a world alone, without her husband, without her sister. Today, she realized she was naive. Oh, so naive. Ever since Rosalind lost the hereditary blessing of the Goddess ten years ago, her sleep had been dreamless. Fitful, but dreamless. So she knew better than anyone that this could not be a dream. She looked on in disbelief as her husband of forty years, Baron Jeames Sencler, embraced a woman that she had adored…
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Shortly after sampling the first maid in hell, Raven casually headed to the castle, where the angry devil looked at him with her seductive red skin shimmering with a luscious glossy surface as if she had just showered. Inside the main entrance was a grand staircase leading to the north, east and west wings. He had travelled straight ahead and arrived in the Queen's chambers as she sat on the end of her huge purple-coloured mattress, looking at him in a seductive black dress. "Raven... you are a little…
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Returning to his room, Raven let the two girls rest quietly while the others slept in the rooms around him with Shirone still absent, but he could tell instantly if she was in trouble, so he didn't mind. He enjoyed the massage of Arachne's soft hands and Persha competing with her, causing the night to pass quickly, the morning sun baking their naked bodies as the maids knocked at the door. "Sir Raven, her Highness requested your presence at the main castle. Please wake up." With a click, the door…
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The two of them began to clear the rest of the blight. For some reason, it could no longer harm either of them like before. Was it something linked to mental damage, or did part of their attack or scent trigger soul attacks that forced both of them into the corner? Persha and Raven walked towards where Shirone and the others would be clearing slowly; the difference in Persha's power was like night and day... 'She's nearly twice as strong now, although I felt my power increase. Finding their bodies must…
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"Ugh!? What!" The arrogant face of Persha, who recovered her living body at the cost of the undead one, suddenly looked a little terrified, her eyes staring at Raven, who was no longer seeming weak, but rather his face was filled with pride, acceptance and pity. "You... what did you do to me!?" Her voice was the same beautiful voice, filled with a melody like a famous singer in a quiet family bar singing to her most cherished fans. "Nothing, you are Persha, the fourth seat of dread. My beloved…
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Memories began to flood his mind as the scene of his world transformed back into the first dungeon... He lost Mor'vaal and his connections with the twelve pillars of bliss, and even his power began to shrink and vanish until he was just the regular Alistair Granbell. Like in the past... Raven stepped cautiously into the dimly lit dungeon room, the torches casting flickering shadows across the rough stone walls. The air was thick with a musty scent, and a chill ran down his spine as he gazed around…
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Raven and Persha crushed the enemies along the twisting path, but the further they travelled, the more infectious and thick the smog from the decaying plants covered in the black ooze. Even Raven began to feel his chest tighten, and his combat abilities seemed to have dropped by roughly twenty per cent. He wanted to ask Persha what they would find in this dreadful forest of death. Because that's what he felt coming into contact with these monsters and the flora... They had long died, only forced to keep…
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