Asura Blade: Sword Of Dynasty Novels & Stories

He noticed his eyes deepened, preparing for a more serious topic. "How did you learn the Emperor's swordsmanship?" Liam asked. Axias, the Dragon Emperor of the Blue Dawn, had a very strong swordsmanship style. The man used the tip of his long sword to thrust into his enemy's defense. With only ordinary swords, he would destroy countless of them because of that sword style. Just like how Liam displayed when he had a duel with Arai, the tip of the sword would be mangled and become unrepairable. That was the reason why that sword style was only effective with the usage of . With coating the sword's surface, the user could preserve the blade and fight even longer.

The blade gleamed with a brilliant silver light, its edge shimmering with a promise of sharpness. The blood sword! I exclaimed internally, astonished by the fact that I had successfully conjured the legendary weapon known to be wielded by a valiant warrior from Cairos—a neighboring nation to Springgan. Apollo had shared stories about it, expressing his dream to create such a weapon one day. Empowered by the gauntlet, I held the blood sword with ease. The blade's edge gleamed, a testament to its lethal potential. Just as the icy shield surrounding me shattered, the dominus seized the opportunity to consume me. Its jaws opened wide as it lunged towards me. Reacting swiftly, I positioned the sw

Pressing. The words settled into my bones, heavy as fate. My breath caught, shallow and uneven, as memory flooded in. I had seen sketches of this blade in old texts. Read fragments of its history in pages stained with fear and blood. The Moon Goddess’s sword. A weapon so powerful it erased borders, silenced cities, and left nothing behind not humans, not werewolves. Just ash and echoes. Malaki stepped forward. When he reached for the sword, he did it slowly, as though even touching it demanded respect. Stone scraped softly as he lifted it from the altar, the sound unnervingly loud in the quiet room. He turned and held it out to me.

"Think about it, the name Kopis is ancient Greece for a knife and it's no coincidence that your name..." "... Is Blade." I finished for her as I began thinking about it. "If this is in anyway true, that means I'm cursed." "Yeah!" She said. "You are." My heart crashed as somehow, I had been hoping that this bloodlust thing would go away and I could try to have a normal life again.

The leather looked old but the blade still looked strangely sharp. “A name... who's name is this?” I asked as I stared at the initial again. “This sword belongs to my mother. You can have it, it's the best blade I have used in my life.” Sansa stated. I was about to argue on how I didn't deserve to have such a valuable sword but the look on her face stopped me. I smiled as I stared at the sword. “I will protect this sword with my life. Only the strongest of foes will I slay it with.” I said boastfully.

The only problem was what I would use to hit it. I couldn’t draw NightSword. Not only was the sword’s legend so tightly woven with both fact and fiction, it was said to belong only to rightful alphas of the packs. It had been passed down from dynasty to dynasty, making its way safely from father to son until it was lost almost five hundred years ago. A while back, I would’ve called the Sword’s tale make-believe. Not now. Not when I found and bonded it.

Samson said. He puts his phone on loud speaker and dropped it on the table to have a feel of the Night blade. Samson stood up and he unsheathed the sword right in front of Alicia who gulped. The handle of the long sword was a wooden-medieval gold cabinet but the blade was stark and stoic. It could cut through any metal, alloid or repel steel attacks plus the enchantments being installed made the sword more distopic.. "Boss, the Night blade should be installed into one of the mechanincal bots being structured here at Boneridge."

Eliza popped out of concealment with her spear held at the ready, the razor-sharp tip pointed menacingly. He saw Kali’s weapon clearly for the first time. In her right hand was a long, dark metallic sword with some kind of engraving on the blade. In fact, the language etched into the Arabian-type sword matched that of Nicholas Clurife’s perfectly. He remembered that specific sword all too well. Blakeney took the stairs two at a time and sealed off the only other exit. He slipped into a defensive crouch, the sword of Troy and a shield in battle position.

My father had told me stories about how he found a hidden cave in our backyard when he was young and stumbled upon an ancient blade that belonged to Vangoda. Had my father known this was going to be my fate? Was he the one who etched my name on the Blade? I decided to take the blade out of its case and hold it. I felt a surge of energy run through my body as soon as my fingers wrapped around the hilt. The blade was light but sturdy, made from an unknown metal that was strong enough to slice through concrete or bone with ease. I could feel its power coursing through me, the same way a soldier feels when he straps on his gun and goes to war. It was as if the blade had chosen me as much as I ha

Elyria offered the weapon. "...is the First Blade." Ariana accepted it carefully. The moment her fingers closed around the hilt, countless memories rushed through her mind. Battles, coronations, sacrifices, vctories, defeats. Generations of rulers wielding the same blade. Tears gathered in her eyes. "I can feel them." "They have accepted you." The blade burst into brilliant silver light. At the same instant... A deafening crack echoed from outside the Temple. Elyria's smile disappeared.