7 Swordsmen Of The Mist Novels & Stories

Fúck, I couldn't believe I'd ever think a woman fighting would be sexy. I peeled my eyes off her reluctantly to concentrate on what was before me. Swords and axes flashed in the mist, and arrows whistled through the air. I glimpsed the sorcerer as an arrow came swishing towards me. I was able to dodge it in time. He stood by the side of the attackers with his minions. They twisted creatures of darkness like the skeleton and made the mist even more horrible. With all that was happening, the warriors of the moonstone pack stood tall, our armour gleaming in the light of the rising sun.

A COUPLE OF HOURS BEFORE THE CEREMONY In his slumber, Nelanian tossed and turned in his bed, breathing deeply and calling out his master's name. /................................................/ The second swordsman was launched into the air from the gas cloud. His landing was less elegant than the others had anticipated. He hit the tree's bark with his head. Rhaizen Gale waited for the mist to disperse while he stood in the middle of the mist. The lorth magician and the alchemist were the only ones left, and the alchemist had been useless in the fight since it began.

Everyone heard a clunk, and the armored fighters' silver swords seemed like they were trying to pierce into an impenetrable material. The gray slash was like the strongest thing in the world, and the swords failed to even pierce through a single inch. That was not all. The slash had not just stopped the two silver-armored fighters, but after they stopped the sword, the slash let out a wave of black mist that started to crawl up the swords and onto their bodies like vines.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever before I chuckled and he followed suit. "That was…" "Amazing?" He finished for me, propping up on one arm to look at me. I gazed into his eyes, touching his face, so happy that I was finally with my knight in shining armor. Kade Carter. After five years of looking for this man. Five years of wanting to be by his side after he shielded me from that staged mugging and saved my life, I was finally in his arms. This was truly amazing. Dreams really do come true.

The familiar weight settled into his grip like an old companion. For a moment he stood perfectly still, letting the quiet settle around him. Then he began. The blade moved through the air in slow, controlled arcs. Steel cut through the morning mist. Again. Again. Again. Each motion was deliberate. Measured. His breathing fell naturally into rhythm with the movement of the sword. Training had always been the only place where Adrian’s mind truly quieted. The past faded. The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background.

Exactly as seen earlier in the castle. The sword. “What does that one do?” I asked, pointing to it. “It drinks blood. For anyone it kills, their blood is stored in the blade. You would try to always have a clothing between you and the hilt” That did not sound more beneficial than fairy dust. “So how useful would it be to protect me?” With only a smile, “very” Time to close the deal. “I have one silver coin” playing with the coins against my fingers. “Make it three and we have a deal”

A dangerous silence settled between them. Several patrons noticed the growing tension and quietly moved away. Alex slowly drew his blade. "You don't get to decide that." Ton sighed. "I don't have time for this." He drew his own sword. Steel rang through the hall. The first clash sent sparks flying. Ton pushed Alex back with surprising strength. Alex barely stumbled. Instead, he smiled. "Good." A faint black mist curled around his free hand. Ton's eyes widened a little. "What..." Before he could finish speaking, the mist shot forward like living shadows.

The kind of thing that required no effort to make a statement because it had been cut by someone who understood that the statement was already in the woman wearing it. I arrived at eight. The venue was the kind of place old money used when it wanted to celebrate itself, high ceilings, soft lighting, the particular hum of three hundred people who all knew each other well enough to be comfortable and well enough to be watching. James Harrington, seventy-two and sharp as he had ever been, found me within five minutes of my arrival, shook my hand with both of his and said he had been following the Lumière story for three years and that tonight felt like the right moment to say so publicly.

Charlie proposed, extending the long curved lines on my forehead. I couldn’t help but grit my teeth as I looked at those bastards sipping their respective cups of coffee, as if nothing had happened. “I’m gonna kill you, you bastards!” I vowed. “Of course, Mr. Frost!" Christoph retorted, or should I say, 'Cedrick'. "Looking forward to working with you again.”

“What do you have here?” Laughter erupts. Loud, mocking, too many voices to count. “Fresh meat,” another leery voice adds. “Mad-Bishop decides to give us a feast.” I whirl slowly. My mouth dries up. Seven men materialize from the shadows. Asian, covered in traditional tattoos that crawl up their necks, across their knuckles. Fuck. Akita's strain at their leashes, all muscles and teeth. No guns. Just swords sheathed at their backs and daggers at their sides.