روايات وقصص ضمن Bowblade Spirit Novel

He was busy with his work when he glimpsed Kambiri stepping in with Zara'm. With all the pressure of happiness in him, so eager to reveal to Kambiri that he has developed his pvsy powers too, white energy shines gaily out of his skin within a second the pvsy dagger left his hand force heading and pointing the sharp edge successive to Kambiri

Her mouth had never hung open so wide for so long, completely abandoning her usual ladylike demeanor. She turned extremely slowly at Willow beside her. "Does Mr. Collins' visualized spirit have some special background?" Her voice was stiff, eyes still showing traces of shock and bewilderment. Walter frowned as he explained, "That's the artifact spirit of Master's Greedy Wolf Blade—the Star Lord of Greedy Wolf Star!" Now, both Willow and Helena were completely dumbfounded. Blade spirit? Star Lord? Greedy Wolf Star? Weapons with artifact spirits were divine treasures that only cultivators at the divine level or above could wield. Where had Chase gotten such a thing?

The court moved quickly, clearing space in the center of the chamber. The duel circle formed beneath the towering pillars of bone and stone. Adrian stepped into the open space. Across from him, Kharvek unsheathed a massive curved blade. “Try not to die too quickly,” the demon mocked. Adrian said nothing. The duel began. Kharvek attacked first. The demon moved with surprising speed for his size, his blade crashing down with enough force to crack the stone floor. Adrian twisted aside. Steel shrieked against steel as he raised his sword to deflect the next strike.

Rather, its spirit was the one shivering. If the Blood Lotus Demon Blade was considered the most bloodthirsty object in the world, then the Spirit-annihilation Halberd in Zuoqiu Yang's hand would be the object that was most prone to devouring spirits in the world. It was strong enough to swallow the soul of any cultivator. However, at this moment, Xiao Chen felt no fear. Rather, he felt a sense of affection from the weapon. For some reason, the demonic weapon in front of him felt very familiar. It was as if the halberd was once his many years ago.

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.

Blade sprang into action to catch it, but the boar was wild and rabid and was not surrendering without a fight. Even before Blade got even a slight scratch from the wild boar, it just dropped dead on his feet. I had to tell the spirits not to interfere with Blade unless I asked them to. They agreed, but a few days later, while Blade was sparring with one of his warriors, his body was enveloped in a black mist, and I had to scream and ask them to stop. I was terrified that if Mike attacked Blade, he would just drop dead. So, at this point, Blade and I decided that he was not to go into any friendly combat with anyone until I could make the spirits stop overprotecting him.

When the old man saw this, he ran forward and threw himself in front of the black miasma, not wanting to let Gerald’s spirit blade hurt Ember Lord. Swish! The spirit blade passed through the body of the old man.

BOOOOMMM! The soul blocked Xiao Chen’s attack, but it didn’t last long—a single kick sent it flying effortlessly. Before it could regain its balance, Xiao Chen had already appeared behind it and slashed the sword at the soul’s waist. But just as the soul was struck, Xiao Chen noticed something strange: the soul wasn’t split at all. The slash simply passed through as if it hadn’t cut anything at all, and a smile appeared on the spirit’s face. It had entered Xiao Chen’s body because it was certain that nothing could cut it—even if the sword was wielded by Xiao Chen’s spirit. But a sword is an inanimate object, so anything classified as an object couldn’t possibly touch it.

She fought like a wolf—elusive, patient, aiming for tendons and openings. Clack. Clack. THUMP. She landed a solid blow on his ribs. He returned one on her shoulder that numbed her arm for a second. They broke apart, breathing harder now, a new respect dawning in the space between them. This was no longer a test. It was a conversation. Their blades spoke a language of feints, parries, and counters. He learned she favored her left side when tiring. She learned he had a tells when he was about to lunge. They were evenly matched in skill, but differently schooled. His was the art of the duel. Hers was the art of the kill.

I approached the pedestal, and there, beside the urn, was a knife I hadn’t noticed before. It was a ceremonial dagger with a shiny silver blade that had runes etched onto it. I reached for the dagger without thinking, the handle fitting perfectly in my palm. I raised my other hand, and brought the dagger down, slashing across my skin deep enough to draw blood. My blood bubbled up eagerly, dripping onto the pedestal and hissing on contact with the stone. The runes glowed brighter, almost blinding me. I didn’t even feel the pain in my hand. The dagger tumbled out of my grasp, and with both hands, I reached for the urn.