Blades Of Glory Costumes Novels & Stories

Cain stretched his arms out at his sides, a dual sword in each hand. The pommels were silver, swirling and curving like crescent moons as they inched down the obsidian blades. His dark hair cascaded down his shoulders. When paired with the armor and swords, Cain looked as deadly as a warrior for the House Viotto should.

One bright afternoon in Crowus Mountain, a fearless girl was training with her sword. She was in a black dress, reaching her ankle. Serin Blyth was embroidered on the back collar of her dress. Her long dark brown hair was tied. A black mask was covering her face, only revealing her mysteriously beautiful eyes.

Bladed energy's entire body was golden, carrying endless killing intent. A huge figure slowly appeared behind Star Sword Emperor. It was an unparalleled emperor. It wore a Dragon Shadow Divine Robe, and its eyes were full of emperor's power. It held a peerlessly sharp emperor sword in the hand.

Char and I took our seats beside Grayson, waiting for the proceedings -or whatever the fuck this is- to start. A small, slim brown haired man who looked like he was one wind from being blown away, walked farther into the room. He turned and pinned Char with his dark eyes. I took the opportunity to study his uniform. It was almost the same as I'd seen Blade wearing in the plane, albeit without the weapons or the symbols on it. The color schemes were the same though and it had the same shimmering air to it.

“—and they already seen out spot. In just an instance, they all prepared themselves in combat. Saypher with his blade that have a hint of blue. Migo's arrows creating a luminescent red light. Kheina's Claymore with a vibrant brown… In this place that is as dark as my hair, why is it only me who look so lame?!?!?

Besides she was just seducing him, it was no guarantee that they would have sex. She felt nervous and anxious. A part of her wanted to give up and ask Antonio for help but given the number of times she had rejected his offer, she fought back the thought. Bellona got dressed in a two piece red suit. She wore on a small see through camisole inside which showed ample amount of her cleavage and the skirt of the suit stopped right on her thigh and hugged her curves tightly. She paired the look with a black shoe and bag and then let her wavy hair fall to her back. She then applied a little makeup and when she was done dolling herself up, she admired herself in the mirror and left for the company,

Amelia,was about to cross blades with Morgana, the red-haired first mate of Drago's crew. Amelia, with her kind heart and unmatched skills, stood tall, her eyes flashing with determination. She wore a resolute look as she brandished her gleaming cutlass, the moonlight reflecting off its polished surface. Even in the heart of battle, she held an air of regal grace, a testament to her royal lineage.

Around us, silence hung heavy, broken only by the soft rustling of the wind blowing the pack’s flags. I stood tall beside him, wearing a silver-blue Luna robe that flowed gracefully down to the grass. Small crystals on the collar caught the morning sunlight and reflected a soft, enchanting glow. Before us stood the ranks of Alphas and Lunas from various packs, each wearing their ceremonial attire, while the Silvergrove pack warriors stood in neat formation behind them, heads bowed in respect.

His hands grabbed them, glanced at me, and then took them. His costume was the same cut as usual, but tonight it was a pale blue— soft, under the low lighting. “Lilies,” he said.

At the time, the king had spared him purely out of curiosity. Curiosity rarely lasted long. But Adrian had. And now he stood below in the courtyard, carrying the blade of the crown. Vaelreth leaned forward slightly. The executioner’s armor was dark and simple, unlike the elaborate armor worn by the demon soldiers. It was practical. Scarred by years of battle and use. The sword resting against Adrian’s shoulder was enormous—far too large for most men to wield easily. Yet he carried it as if it belonged there. As if the blade itself had chosen him.