Bowblade Spirit Novel Novels & Stories

Adrian speculated that the Hellblade was from another world. It had similarities with the Divine Frost Slayer Blade, but also stark differences. The eerie and sinister aura it carried was its biggest difference from the Divine Frost Slayer Blade. There was no doubt that there was a spirit in the Hellblade. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been constantly at odds with the Divine Frost Slayer Blade, even making the Divine Frost Slayer Blade powerless against it.

However, in the face of the ruthless Spirit Addict Leopard, he found himself unable to do much. What frustrated Bowen more was that the Spirit Addict Leopard's defense was rather powerful, and many of his blows had not been able to harm it much. Roar! The Spirit Addict Leopard's growls blared through the air like a torrid breeze. Bowen could not dodge in time, and long gashes started to appear on his body, blood trickling down his figure. The Spirit Addict Leopard thoroughly grew feral at the scent of blood. It pounced on Bowen, pressing him onto the ground as it opened its bloody mouth to tear at Bowen's head.

There were bloody wounds on his body. And the sharp power, like wind blades, was constantly eroding his wounds. Obviously! The sharp power was the Killing Move left by Venerable Wind Spirit. He had been slightly injured by the first encounter. Even! If he hadn't reacted fast enough, he would have been very powerful. The terrifying wind blade attack earlier had probably cut his body into countless pieces!

I diverted my attention, elsewhere, afraid to vomit because of the guy who is bluntly flirting with a spirit. I saw a Spirit wearing a brown armor-looking suit with black highlights. He is probably the spirit of earth. The spirit is floating in front of a girl, a shy looking girl. She has eyeglasses and a few bruises on her arms. The girl is looking up to the spirit with an awkward smile, more awkward than the smile I was flashing a while back. The Spirit is smiling as he look down on her, both are not talking.

Instantly their sword shined with two different colors. As they waved their sword at him, a few streaks of spirit energy flew out their swords. It was manipulation of the spirit qi that only a Spirit Master Stage Warrior was capable of. Their spirit energy condensed into the wind blades and light blades that flew toward Shi Tian with fast speed. Shi Tian looked at the incoming blades and swing his spear multiple times using basic spear art. In just a few seconds, he swings his spear dozens of times. All the wind blades and light blades were destroyed by Shi Tian's spear easily before they could reach him.

As in our previous lives, my sister and I were held captive, unable to move, by chains inscribed with ancient runes that locked away our spirits. The Demons' commander burst into raucous laughter, taunting the Celestial Guards, saying, "Be smart and scurry back to your Celestial Realm. I've only come for the Twin Flowers of Chaos this time. If anyone's feeling brave, step right up!" I surveyed the crowd; they were battered and bloodied, their spirits nearly broken, and nobody dared to make a move. It had been ages since a new God of War had risen in the Celestial Realm, leading to this dire predicament.

"He is the reason you won't accept the Harmony. He is the most dangerous weed of all." --- ### The Obsidian Seed Rowan stood his ground, his broken blade held high. "I’ve been called a lot of things, Gardener. A knight, a lapdog, a prototype. But 'weed' is a new one. And I’ve always been hard to pull out of the ground." The shear lunged. Rowan swung his obsidian blade, but the silver light of the Gardener’s weapon didn't break. It passed through the obsidian as if it weren't there. Rowan let out a cry as the blade sliced through his shoulder—not his flesh, but his **Spirit**.

I could tell he noticed who I was watching. “Pass me that wine,” I said, pointing toward the shelf beside the cabinet. He picked it up and brought it over. “No glass?” he asked. I shook my head. “I don’t need it.” I pulled the cork and drank straight from the bottle. The burn hit immediately, but it didn’t kill anything inside me. I could still feel that same knot in my chest. Scorpion didn’t leave as well. He stood near the door, watching me. Then he looked at the screen again.

Runes ran along the hilt—half flame, half crescent—and the metal pulsed like it was alive. Racheal stepped closer. The blade sang to her blood. “You feel it, don’t you?” Myra whispered. “It was made for you.” Racheal reached out, fingers hovering over the hilt. “What is it?” Myra exhaled slowly. “It’s called Ashweaver. A soulbound blade. Forged at the end of the Flame Wars by a rogue godsmith. It can kill a vessel of divine blood… but only if wielded by one who shares that blood.”

“Your coin tastes like the castle and I have something against that blade and the castle. Remember? Family feuds? Now, what is it you wear on your neck?” That was the protection they spoke about. They knew this would happen. “I do not know what you’re talking about but it was nice doing business with you” there was no need in hiding my movements now. Brisk steps had me halfway through the room when a blade went whooshing past my face and lodged itself into the wall opposite me. I looked back to see him holding another dagger in one hand and a boomerang in the other “return my weapon, I do not wish to trade it. You can choose from the others”