Backhand Blade Build Novels & Stories

“Good to hear. We will leave tomorrow morning.” Everyone filed out of the conference room except for Chris. He stayed behind, looking at the swords Jackson had created. Chris had admired the fact that Jackson had crafted everything, including the blade. The blade was only sharp on one side, unlike the rest of the swords in the bunker. Each of the blades had a small notch on the front side of the blade to lock it into place when attached.

He rented a shack on the edge of it, close enough to hear voices, far enough to disappear. For a week, no one came. For two weeks, no one asked questions. On the third week, he built his first blade. He had always known how. Enzo’s voice echoed in his hands. Grip here. Balance there. Steel listens if you respect it. He sold the blade cheap. The buyer came back two days later with another man. Then three. Then strangers began arriving. “You make weapons,” one said. “I make tools,” Lucia’s son replied. The man tested the edge with his thumb and hissed. “This one bites.”

The kind of place, he’d said, where pain was part of the lesson. Yadira had once remarked that this backyard setup felt more like something made for their toddlers. But it would do, for now, to keep their skills sharp. The blade she was using had been forged by a blacksmith on the far side of the island. They’d stocked up on similar weapons for training. Ghulik had all of their original gear in safekeeping, including Gildeon’s shortsword. How he managed to store and carry everything in that tiny body, Arah still had no idea.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

Something that had been applied from outside. The scent was stronger here. He drew the Moonborne blade at his side. The one Luna had given him six weeks ago. He felt the blade's slight warmth in his grip, the lunar-treated metal that she had insisted on after the border battle because the holy fire weapons had shown him what untreated blades cost in that specific context. He moved through the gap. Outside the settlement's northern perimeter. Into the tree line.

The blade sliced into him like cutting through softened butter. ‘Ouch. Sounded like that hurt him if his prepubescent girly scream was any indication,’ Zeus said snorting. I would have to agree with my wolf on that one for certain. My body jumped backwards, giving me enough room to get my staff into proper rotation. The reason that I chose this as my weapon to specialize in was because of its versatility. It did not matter which end hit your opponent because both would do equal damage. Once you got it into rotation, it became a spinning wheel of doom. If you wanted two weapons, then you could unfasten them, giving you dual blades.

This blade had tasted the blood of countless foes and had never once failed me. Next, my dagger. It was shorter and sleeker than the sword, designed for close combat. The blade was curved slightly, its edge razor-sharp. The handle, crafted from bone and reinforced with steel, fit perfectly in my grip. On the far side of the rack hung my bow. Its limbs were made from dark wood, reinforced with silver inlays that shimmered like moonlight. The bowstring was taut and sturdy, capable of unleashing arrows with deadly precision. Quivers of arrows, each fletched with black feathers, stood ready beside it.

Their low crafting levels made the products too crude to function, and instead, he made them go with the other crafters to grind. Another welcomed addition was a new magical device that the tribe invented, using his concept of making small enchantments and combining them in a complete artifact. The result was the crystal power saw. "Even if it's expensive, i can't say that I'm not satisfied..." The blade was a circular sheet of diamond with little "dents" that worked as the teeth of the saw. It got permanently enchanted with [Enhanced durability] and [Sharpen], so it would be easier to work with wood. A copper rod connected the blade with the "mechanism" inside the wooden frame. It consisted

There was a glint of light and the soft sound of a blade leaving its scabbard as the woman took out a simple yet beautifully handcrafted dagger. The blade was made out of a silver like glass and curved at the tip. The blade had never seen blood before. The handle was made out of some kind of brass and it was wrapped in a soft, tanned leather. It was well made, it being from one of the best blacksmiths in the land of huskarian.

The Anatomy of the Thermal-Resonance Blade I began the process with the precision of a surgeon. I laid my obsidian blade—the one that had tasted the blood of the Shadow Alpha—onto the stone table. Using a laser-scalpel from my kit, I carved a hollow channel down the center of the blade, exactly where the 'blood groove' would be. "Leo, Ace... I need you," I called out. The boys stepped forward. They had been training with the Cinder-children, learning how to pull heat from the air without burning their lungs. Ace’s hands were already glowing a deep, volcanic red, while Leo stood as the anchor, his golden aura acting as a containment field.