Azrael's Blade Novels & Stories

Witnessing Alex stabbed in her chest, she felt guilty because she deserved to die than Alex. Meanwhile, Azrael approached Alex weakly while groaning in pain. He tried to pull out the stab silver sword slowly and Alex whimpered in pain. “A-Alex… please hold on! Please don’t die!” he said as more blood came out when the sword got pulled out. He put his hands in Alex’s wound and tried concentrating while calling the force inside him. As a half-angel, he knew he had healing powers. Hope-filled his heart when his hands lit up through Alex’s deep wound, but it didn’t heal. “A-Azrael, it’s no use. Stop wasting your energy…” “No! I will do everything to keep you alive. I don’t want to lose you, Alex

Extremely appalled, Ezrene peered at him for a moment and seeing him hurting himself so brutally, she could not stop herself from tearing up again. “Asael, what have you done?” she questioned him whose head was lowered as he was gazing down towards that blood stained knife on his hand. His mouth made no effort to talk to her but Ezrene also refused to give up to him so easily this time. “Asael….” She tried to take that knife from him but as soon as she touched him, he snapped his head around her and then grabbed her jaw in an extremely harsh grip, catching Erzene off guard.

Our collision sent us both tumbling across the weed-choked parking lot. I rolled to my feet first, silver light flooding my limbs, suppression abandoned in favor of survival. Azrael recovered almost as quickly, his silver knife already in motion. I dodged. Barely. The blade passed close enough that I felt its cold burn even without making contact. "Fast," Azrael observed. "Faster than you should be." He circled me. "You're channeling more power than a newly awakened Moon Blessed should be able to access safely." "I'm full of surprises," I shot back, circling him warily.

This is a new dawn for Azrael! 🎇 🎇 THE END 🎇 🎇

The chain was revealed to be attached to his giant naked blade, and he spun his weapon around like a heavy pendulum on a rope. "Great, now he has a weapon." Minos remarked, before letting loose another arrow. Nymgos's chain and blade easily knocked the projectile off its course. He spun his weapon a few more times and tossed it towards Minos and Rei who both managed to dodge out of the way. The blade scraped along the tiled roof top, sending sparks in all directions. The big drow yanked on the chain and swung it to the side, sending the blade towards Otheric.

"I'm not afraid. I gave my word I wouldn't harm any of your people, but I never promised that my followers won't attack you if I'm killed. So you see, Baal, one way or another, tonight you will die." Malcolm swallowed hard. He'd already figured as much. The prayers of one priest and three friends were not enough. God had abandoned him long ago. "Are you ready?" Stephan drew his sword. Malcolm drew his own sword. A gift from Van nilsen, it was razor sharp, the steel blade plated with pure silver. The hilt was steel and leather and fit perfectly in his hand. He swished the blade through the air and saluted Stephan. He allowed himself one last thought of Aya, then focused his mind on one thing

I walked out of the car first, checked the area quickly—entries, exits, movement—and then opened the door. "She looks like an actual bodyguard," Valerian muttered under his breath as I stood still, my back straight and expressionless. Kaelith didn't reply. His eyes were sharp when he got out of the car. Then instead of heading forward, he turned toward me, his expression darker than before. "Eye for an eye. So, I want four heads—" He leaned closer, his presence pressing in, "—and the Commander's tongue. Can you do it?" My eyes darted to him. "Is it an order?"

His voice was weak, but the weight of his words was undeniable. Slowly, his breathing became shallower, each breath weaker than the last. His trembling fingers, which had moments ago twitched with restless energy, now stilled. Then, as if all the fight had drained from him in an instant, his hand fell lifelessly onto the bed. Celeste barely had time to react before she saw the tear slip from the corner of his eye—silent, unacknowledged, yet heavy with meaning. He closed his eyes once more, not in peaceful rest, but in surrender, as if finally yielding to whatever unseen force had come for him.

she trailed off. “I know, don’t speak anymore, we are on my way to my house, in no time, we’ll be there, for now, contain your energy,” Azrael smiled sadly, his heart breaking at every second that passes by, the woman on his arms was his strength, a ray of sunlight in his dim life, but it seems like he was destined for pain and only pain. After his Uncle, Don Antonio, died during his birthday celebration, his beloved woman is tiptoeing between life and death in his arms now. His hands were shaking as he tried to stop blood from gushing out on the woman’s forehead. He thought he became accustomed to pain, that it would no longer hurt him, how naive.