Ash Of War: Sacred Blade Novels & Stories

he rasped, his voice like dry leaves crumbling underfoot. I inclined my head. “It’s time.” The shaman smiled, revealing blackened teeth. “So you finally call upon the old ways again.” My fingers tightened around the silver blade at my side. “This war demands more than brute strength. It demands something eternal.” His eyes flicked to the blade, and something in them gleamed. “You seek to bind yourself to it.” I nodded. The shaman chuckled, low and knowing. “A dangerous path. But you have always walked the edge of damnation, haven’t you?”

Their piercing, unnatural shrieks echoed agonizingly across the entire isolated island, vibrating the very marrow of those who stood below. The final, world-altering battle had officially begun. Killian stepped firmly to the absolute front of the line, his majestic silver wolf spirit standing taller and more radiant than ever before in his life. Brilliant moonfire danced wildly along his thick black fur, and the legendary Blade of the First Alpha blazed with an blinding, celestial light that cut through the encroaching gloom. Behind him stood Seraphina, Aiden, Leo, Freya, Kael, Orion, and the few remaining battle-hardened warriors of the Blackthorn vanguard. No one retreated a single pace. N

Their voices grew fainter and fainter until Joshua could no longer hear anything at all. Meanwhile, aboard a flight to Francoria, Yara slept peacefully against the window. Cassius was about to drape a blanket over her when she slowly opened her sleepy eyes. "You're awake. Did you sleep well?" Yara smiled and stretched lazily. "I've finally gotten my revenge. I don't think I've ever slept this peacefully before." Cassius smiled. "Yeah. I heard Joshua's legs were too badly damaged to save. They had to amputate both of them. He'll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

He braced them on the ground, and the countless swords beneath his feet were sucked up, instantly turning them red. “These are the heirs to Blade Hero’s legacy? “That’s nothing.” With that said, the Reverend sent his palms flying at Tyr and the man in white. Hundreds of swords began to shoot at the duo, who could only use the Heavenly Conquering Blade and the Sword of Grace to swat them away. “Sweeping Army.” Tyr slashed his sword with a resounding roar. Then, the frightening glint of the sword shot out and instantaneously sent the swords crashing.

She wiped away her tears. “Beyond death, we have promised. Rayan can’t ever separate us. We will reach the end together,” Liyana declared. She took off her hairpin. “Ya Allah, please, forgive me, I can’t live,” she said and slit her wrist with blood seeping out. “Oww!” She exclaimed in pain. She lay down on the ground beside Ayaan. She entwined her hand in his then closed her eyes. Sofia and Liyana’s parents continued searching around the forest for Liyana. As they searched, Sofia sighted Ayaan and Liyana from a distance. To confirm her fears, she moved closer and saw the two lovers lying lifeless.

My fingers loosened against NightSword and it clattered away from me. Eryndor’s eyes were dilated, his canines dripping saliva as he dove for the sword, picking it up with a feral grin. He raised it above my head as I watched in horror. NO!, NightSword screamed in my head, in protest at being wielded by one not bonded to him. My ears popped and my vision was lost again as a powerful sonic blast emerged from the ancient weapon, a beam of energy spiraling outwards and slamming into Eryndor.

But in that moment, he looked so very tired. I stared at all the death and destruction around us, feeling the weight of our impending battle. Dean. The Firstborn. The Bound Wolves. All of them—disrupting the balance of our world. The fate of humanity rested on our shoulders, and I knew we had to fight with everything we had left. I turned to the hill. At the peak stood the altar—once hidden beneath layers of earth, now unearthed by war. "Tell me what the blade is, and how do we use it to defeat them?" I asked Cael, my voice filled with determination and a hint of fear.

The air still shimmered from the blast. Ashvale Temple—what remained of it—stood in silent ruin beneath the silver morning light. Blackened stone, scattered blades, and charred earth bore witness to the fury that had erupted beneath the ancient moon sigils. Aria knelt by the shattered remains of Sylara’s dagger. Silver ash curled from the jagged fragments. Her own blade, the Sovereign Flame, pulsed with a low heat, as if still humming from the collision.

Rivers turned to ash. The war was no longer about spells or blades. It was a war of faith.

Obed quickly responded, and then he bent his face just in case Kara was still going to carry on with her act. It surely looked like she was about to behead him, and I was eager to stop her. She returned her sword, and then she sighed and went back to her position. Obed was still panting; I could tell that his heartbeat had increased from the moment it seemed like he was about to face death. “This is about the alliance you formed with the CEOs of Silver and Willow Cities,” Asher said, and he couldn’t even deny it. The look in his eyes was enough for us.