Bandit's Blood Curved Sword Novels & Stories

He looked like he was about to say something, but he was cut off when he started coughing violently. He spat out a mouthful of blackened blood. It made for a gruesome sight against the white carpet. Felix stared at the blood in disbelief before he jerked his head up to look at me. "Why?" I set my wine glass down and looked down at him from the tip of my nose. "I'm just fulfilling my responsibility as a mother." Felix's eyes widened when he finally registered my words. The wolfsbane worked quickly, especially since Felix had been caught completely off-guard. It didn't take long before he crumpled to the ground.

Rodrigo drew a slow breath before raising his voice. “Wolves of Blackthorn!” His voice cracked with age, yet it carried the unmistakable authority of a man who had led them through more winters than anyone alive. “She is Kyrian’s blood, and she has done nothing to bring harm upon this pack.” From the shadows near the hearth, a battle-hardened warrior raised his fist. “Elder Rodrigo Sigurd, the Iron-Eyes, has spoken!” “Aye!” another warrior bellowed. “The Iron-Eyes speaks the truth!”

“Just kill the summoner and those ghosts will disappear!” After hearing the commander’s order, the bandits regain their courage and attacked Engram and Jeremiah all at once. The prince quickly stabbed the first bandit that came after him. The burly looking bandit not only died from the critical hit, but the sword also absorbed his life force, which made the victim’s body became too skinny, the bones structures were clearly shown from behind the skin. The other bandits shriek to see what happened to their friend. The dark prince seized the moment to counter-attack, “kill them all,” he gave an order to his undead minions.

Blood boiled in my veins because of anger and loss. "You can take your time." The voice bought me out of my thoughts. I looked up to everyone staring at my hands and me. I looked at my hands to see what they were staring at. My hands had blood on them; I had buried my nails into my palm with such pressure that they had made small punctures on my palms. "Are you fine?” William asked. I quickly released my hands and rested them on my thighs. "Yes I am fine," I said reassuring all of them, even though I wasn't sure myself.

“It’s worth a try. Maybe my blood is worthy. After all, it did unlock Muxue Yan’s bonds.” Hoko’s face turned white as a sheet upon hearing Xiyu’s words, and he clenched his fist behind his back, shivering as the couple faced each other. Using Xiyu’s ice dagger, Dongyue made a sharp cut on his hand and Xiyu’s, allowing the blood to trickle down the hole of the platform. Xiyu heard his prayers loud and clear. “Bodhisattva, grant me strength.” She heard the sound a chilly wind emerge from somewhere in the room, gradually getting louder and closer as the lights surrounding the platform lit up in a myriad of varying colours. No longer purple, she counted seven different colours.

It was only now that Carson Montgomery realized that he had not walked out of Caspian’s shadow. "I refuse to accept this! I refuse to accept this!" Carson Montgomery roared. He raised his hand and shoved it into his mouth. His mouth was swollen and deformed because it was stuffed with a hand. The next moment, Carson Montgomery took out a curved, inky cyan long sword from the depths of his throat. The surface of the long sword was full of scales, like the skin of a snake. At first glance, it gave people a feeling of malice and cruelty. "Caspian, this is the Demonic Python Sword refined from my spine." Carson Montgomery's voice became hoarse at this moment.

“What do you mean it’s not metal?” “You see the red edge of the blade? That is made using a very special ore called Wyvern Blood. It’s not quite a rare ore but to find one of high quality is. Dark magic or to be more specific, Bane Magic is used to imbue the sword with properties of flame.” “Whoa~” Matthew had no words to express his amazement. “Yes, in other words this is a very powerful sword. How much did you purchase this for?” “I think it was… Ten thousand?”

The heraldic crest was unknown to me. The stranger went to the smith and started looking at the swords that were displayed there. He was searching for a specific sword, light weighted. The sword he carried was mix between a saber and a sword. The hilt and the cross-guard were that of a sword-simple but elegant. The blade was curved. Because of its length the stranger carried the sword on his back. "None of them are the one I search," the strange said. "Wait, stranger, I think I have one…" the smith went into the shop, after a few minutes he returned holding a blade in his hand. "I think it is Dwarven made."

The sword in hand turned into a stronger sword with a large slotted segment and a hook between the edges. Altair was happy, it turned out that this god's pet knew how to thank him. Altair attacked the bandit with a single strike, the blade he was using was broken, slashing and cutting off the bandit's arm, blood rushing out causing splashes everywhere. The bandit screamed and fell down now Altair didn't have to jump up anymore to run briskly over several trees. The people below were chasing quickly, some were also on horseback. "Actually where do they get arrows from, like they never run out?" said Altair, looking down.

It had likely claimed numerous lives before. "I'm ready to sever heads with this," Dirk proclaimed, lowering the blade to chest level. "Caladbolg?!" Jenny gasped. "You've taken our master's sword?!" Caladbolg was no ordinary weapon. It demanded a specific ritual—immersing in fresh blood each morning and evening. It exuded its unique aura, reputed to harvest lives upon unsheathing. This renowned mystical Jesundian blade was always in Adolf's possession. However, now, he seemed to have handed it to Dirk.