7 Swordsmen Of The Mist Novels & Stories

They moved as one. The mist thickened, curling around their ankles, hiding roots that twisted like snakes and jagged stones ready to trip the unwary. Adrian moved forward with deliberate caution, sword slicing through shadows that lunged at him from the fog. Each strike had to be precise; even the smallest misstep could be fatal. Elena’s arrows streaked through the mist, finding gaps between the dark forms that surged toward them. Marcus spun gracefully, knives flashing, deflecting attacks while striking in perfect rhythm, and the ally moved like a ghost, anticipating every movement, neutralizing threats before they could strike.

It smelled of damp stone, old hay, and solitude. Makil was already there, warming up with a series of fluid stretches that further betrayed his training. He wore similar clothes to yesterday, and two practice longswords were thrust into the ground at the center of the yard. Leigh arrived silently, a shadow detaching from the deeper shadows of the archway. She'd re-braided her hair tightly. She said nothing, simply walked to the center, pulled one sword from the earth, and tested its weight. "No rules," Makil said, pulling the other. "First to yield, or be disarmed."

I took a good look at it until I was sure I could now recognize him. I took a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and sipped slowly, like a lady. I needed to think. I needed to plan. My eyes kept searching for Storm or anyone else I knew, but all I saw were strangers, men in expensive suits and women in backless gowns, dripping in diamonds. There was no sign of Storm. He had said he would be here. I hated how he did this. Sent me into warzones while he played Ghost. But I had come this far. I was not turning back.

Samarth couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction. Kumar charged forward, his sword flashing in the sunlight as he struck at Samarth with a powerful blow. Samarth, anticipating the attack, reined in his horse and raised his own sword to meet Kumar's. The two blades clashed, sparks flying as the steel rang out against each other, echoing loud enough to shake ears. Samarth's horse moved furiously beneath him, its hooves pounding the earth as he expertly parried Kumar's blows. Kumar, undeterred, pressed the attack, his sword slicing through the air. Samarth, his face set in a fierce grin, countered each blow with ease, his own sword striking back with lightning speed and his mind sickly desiring

I licked the sides of my lips as I gazed at the man—a dead man lying in front of me with his eyes wide open. It's as if I was brought back to reality and realized what I had just done. My eyes widened, I turned to my companions, only to see my enemies dead; they were all beheaded, and their blood was flooding the way. I gasped. The surroundings gradually darkened because the moon has changed color, but any darkness is irrelevant to my eyes that can see right through it.

She just wanted to run and forget everything about the man she had been living with for three years. As she continued to run, a faint voice calling her was heard from afar. It was Michael's voice! Diana, who heard that, immediately quickened her steps without looking back. 'Now we're over. Goodbye, my love,' Diana thought frantically as her vision blurred. Suddenly, there was a bright light in front of her. But before she knew what it was, everything was already too late. BRAK!!! "NO!!!"

Ram, Nand, and Vipula were locked in their own fierce battles. The masked man's followers swarmed them, but each team member stood resilient, their unique weapons turning the tide in their favor. Ram wielded a double-edged sword, its blade humming with energy. He moved with a ferocity that belied his calm demeanor, each swing of his sword sending enemies sprawling. His strikes were precise, each blow calculated to incapacitate rather than kill, reflecting his disciplined nature. As attackers closed in, he parried and countered with an almost supernatural speed, the sword's glow illuminating his path through the chaos.

"This sword is called Lambini. It has been by my side for 450 years, slaying 173 of my enemies. You shall be the 174th." As Pearlo wielded his sword, his aura shifted. He no longer seemed flustered—he looked down at Logan as though he was an insect. This was the demeanor of the greatest undefeated person in the Mystique Realm. "Charge!" Logan's eyes filled with the lust for battle, and he stepped forward, throwing a punch. The air boiled with mystique energy as it gathered before his fist. He became enveloped in golden brilliance, akin to a manifesting god. Pearlo waved his arm, and a radiance shaped like a 100-foot sword slashed down from the skies.

Mister suddenly realized that she had secretly been distracting him while sending out a beacon of bright green light over their location, and leading everyone else straight to them. "You bitch! I should have known that you wouldn't come alone!" He shouted as he shifted and lunged for her at the same time. Lucky for the queen, she saw it coming in enough time to get out of the way. Mister landed hard on all fours just inside of the open doorway. He gasped really hard when he knocked the wind out of himself by brutally slamming his ribs against the corner of a table that was sitting just inside the shed entrance to the left of where he stopped.