Blade Of Northarch Novels & Stories

North made the request, almost pleading. Pytor completely ignored her. He wasn’t even looking at the woman he’d tortured so badly. His gaze had already moved on, and he was picking off another person not wearing the magical camouflage. When his narrowed eyes and turned in the direction of the six men whose faces she remembered, she clutched even tighter to the compass. A surge of power filled her, and the compass grew hot in her hand. She winced and looked down, almost shocked to see the glass face starting to melt. She pulled back the power surge as much as she could as a gentle voice whispered in the back of her mind, “Find Your Way, North.” She recognized the voice, and it soothed her eve

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

⸻ The words blurred before Alessio’s eyes. “Archive…” he whispered. “What exactly is it?” ⸻ The Raven didn’t answer. Instead… He looked toward the Oath Blade. The blue glow surrounding it had become brighter. The weapon seemed almost… Alive. ⸻ Suddenly— Alessio’s vision blurred. His grip tightened around the dagger. A violent pain exploded inside his head. Memories. Hundreds of them. Not his own. Faces he had never seen. Kings. Queens. Soldiers. Children.

"You're impossible." "You love it." "I do." They stood there for a long moment, holding each other in the morning light. Somewhere below, students were beginning to stir. The sound of laughter drifted up from the training grounds. "Have you thought about what comes next?" Rhydian asked quietly. Kael pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. "The message from the north." "Yeah." Rhydian's expression sobered. "The ancient structure. The runes matching the Twin Blades."

The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background. Only the blade remained. Steel. Control. Focus. He spun the sword once and brought it down in a clean strike that would have split a skull from crown to jaw. The sound echoed softly across the courtyard. Then— “You train early.” The voice came from behind him. Deep. Smooth. Ancient. Adrian froze instantly. His instincts reacted before his thoughts did. He turned and dropped to one knee. “My king.” King Vaelreth stood near the entrance of the courtyard, his dark cloak stirring slightly in the cold morning wind.

HALIL’S POV Making my way toward the lower armory, I kept my strides long and even. We had a new shipment of silver-laced blades arriving from the northern border, and checking the inventory was the perfect excuse to leave my suite. Getting out of that room was an absolute necessity. The air in there was far too thick, completely saturated with her scent. Nora.

She knew exactly what had to be done and that it would be brutal. From her hidden pocket, she pulled a small silver blade, a relic from the Northern tribes, the kind that could cut through more than just skin. She stared at the blade, then back at the suffering man. ‘If I can't kill her’, Raksha mused, a cruel, thin smile forming on her lips. ‘Then I'll break the thing she wants most. I’ll turn this pack into a graveyard before I let her take it back.’ She walked over to the side of the sofa, looking down at Ahri, who was now barely conscious, his breaths coming in rattling gasps.

The blade tilted toward Zara. I stepped in front of her without thinking. “Don’t,” I snarled. Voss’s lips curved. “Fascinating. It recognizes hierarchy already.” The blade lunged. It didn’t aim for my heart. It went for my bond. Pain exploded through me, white, searing, intimate. The blade skimmed my chest, carving a sigil into my skin that burned straight through flesh and into spirit. I hit the floor hard, the world shattering into sparks and echoes.