Novel & Cerita Ancestral Sword Of Clan Ice Blade

At the gate of the Swordsmanship-seeking Sect on the Swordsmanship-seeking Mountain Range. A slender figure was sitting cross-legged in the sky above the mountain gate. His short black hair stood on end, shining with cold light like steel needles. He was a young man of the Human Clan. He had sharp eyebrows and sword-like eyes, but there was a hint of unconcealable arrogance between his eyebrows. His eyes were long and slanted, and his lips were thin. On his back was a cyan saber with a long hilt. The hilt was two meters long, and there was a crescent moon and a cyan dragon on the blade. The saber looked ordinary. Only a real master could feel the murderous aura from it. Only a murderous weap

It was well known amongst wolves that one slice of a blade infused with that mixture could poison and kill in seconds. I ran my hand along the poisoned blade slowly, heading down to the hilt. The hilt was studded with several red, heart-shaped jewels that sparkled under any kind of light. It was these jewels that earned it the name of HeartReaper. The sword had belonged to my father, and his father before him. Slowly, I tapped the blade against my thigh, drawing everyone's attention to it. "Who's next?" I asked coldly.

I queried. "Good question. Like I said, it's just a little favor, all you have to do is use your Alpha blood to awaken this sword, it is our Clan's ancient sword and Awakening it with your blood would make it powerful again. Our dead clan would rise again and just like your Pack, we will be at the top of the food chain." He cackled. I was shocked. So they wanted my power just for their selfish reasons? And they are blackmailing me with my son, I wonder if Crystal knows about this.

I blurted out, “I know there's something else you want, aside from me.” A smile appeared on his face, “I love that you see through me. You are right, I'm searching for something else.” “What is it?” I asked fearlessly. Alastor's face turned serious, “A sword.” He declared. “A legendary sword called Ashera. The sword was named after the first wielder, the first Ancient Lycanthropic dragon to transform into a dragon, becoming a god. After the dragon's death, the sword disappeared, alongside the dragon (Ashera).”

Just being in Lionel’s hand alone sent chills down one’s spine, like an ancient beast about to devour its prey. “This sword is called the Immortal Slayer Blade. It’s an upper-grade fiend artifact. It’s stained with the essence of ancient great fiends and extremely powerful. It’s one of the most precious treasures I possess. “With this knife, you’ll be able to contend with beings in the late Darkness stage, even if you’re at the mid-Darkness stage!” Lionel said excitedly, “I’ll exchange this broadsword for the internal pellet in your hand. What says you?”

‘Use the sword, my queen, as I have chosen you. “How?” It may not clarify my guess, but I trusted this creature and asked. ‘Feel the deep connection through blood ties from ancient times. It cannot be unbound as descendants emerge throughout generations.’ Like I thought, this creature was a descendant, but I didn’t know from what line. I just composed myself better while Marvin kept attacking me with his monstrous attempts. I remained in defensive mode, and somehow, the sword began to radiate such power when I started feeling the connection from ancient times. I felt enormous powers from nature through generations, making the sword heavier, but surprisingly, I could easily swing it and use i

The woman in black reached me, dropped to one knee, and bowed with deep respect. This was my bonded familiar—the ancient black dragon, Snowshade. Through the years of my seclusion, the Ashveil Order's name beyond these walls had grown fouler and fouler. I'd sensed long ago that something was wrong, so I'd had Snowshade take human form and look into it for me in secret. "Rise," I said evenly. "Show these three elders—so very far above worldly matters—what you turned up." Snowshade stood and drew a thick bundle of record-crystals from her enchanted ring.

“Then what are you here for?” He pulls his hand back out, and there is something in it. Metal catches the low light. He turns it once in his fingers and offers to handle it first. I know the weight of that blade before I touch it. Guild issue. My hand closes around it before the rest of me can object. The balance is clean and familiar and my grip adjusts on its own. “You recognize it,” he says. “How did you get this,” I ask. “It was delivered.” Silence thickens.

--- The council convened again. The sword was kept in a locked chamber deep beneath the academy, surrounded by layers of protective magic. But everyone could feel its presence. A cold weight pressing down on the edges of their minds. Seraphine spoke first. "The sword is ancient. Older than the Watchers. Older than the Abyss. It was created by something that existed before the world took its current form." Aion nodded slowly. "I've heard stories. About a weapon that could unmake anything it touched. A blade forged from the heart of a dying star."

The raw vulnerability in his voice cracked Soren wide open. This was JR Draven, the fierce, unyielding man who had once hated him, battled him publicly, then claimed him so completely the entire NHL still called them Ice Husbands with awe. Hearing uncertainty from him hurt worse than any check into the boards. Soren kissed him. JR responded with that signature intensity, hands sliding under Soren’s shirt, gripping his waist as if anchoring him in place.