Compass And Blade Novels & Stories

I whispered a string of 'there, there's before proceeding to repeat the process all over again in both his hands. I got up from my knees and dusted my pants before taking a step closer and he leaned back on the bench after brushing his hair with his fingers, giving me enough access to his face and jaw. This one was an easy task, it didn't hurt as much in the face so I quickly finished treating him.

Raphael replied, "I do not plan to annihilate or conquer a race or anyone except Roosevelt, what I will do instead is forge an alliance between me and each race, just like the pact I want to propose to you, wolf." I demanded, "What pact exactly." He smirked, "Annihilating Roosevelt together, and serving me." Mars snapped, "You expect us to serve you? Who do you think you are?" Raphael gripped his sword, he looked seconds from unsheathing it, his fingers locked the hilt, I could witness frozen tendrils of mist bleeding out. "You nearly forced me to draw frostbite" So Raphael’s sword is called Frostbite Blade. The blade is long, straight, pale blue like glacier ice. It doesn’t shine. It drinks

I stepped into the circle. The geas flared, cold fire lancing up my arm from the brand, but I had learned to ride it, to channel through the pain, to make the Council's leash into my own whip. My blade was obsidian, a weapon of edges and absence, the kind that drank light and returned shadow. It felt right in my hand, the weight of something that had no allegiance to any narrative but my own.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

Vincenzo pulled out a white hand towel and cleaned up the blood on the knife before dropping it and picking up another one. My eyes widened a little as I saw the blade in his hands. Spyderco Matriarch. Vincenzo rarely used this blade on anyone because in his words 'he wouldn't waste his favorite blade on mere situations.' The blade was only ever seen when the boss was enraged. And I knew the moment was now. I could see that he was barely controlling his rage.

My father had told me stories about how he found a hidden cave in our backyard when he was young and stumbled upon an ancient blade that belonged to Vangoda. Had my father known this was going to be my fate? Was he the one who etched my name on the Blade? I decided to take the blade out of its case and hold it. I felt a surge of energy run through my body as soon as my fingers wrapped around the hilt. The blade was light but sturdy, made from an unknown metal that was strong enough to slice through concrete or bone with ease. I could feel its power coursing through me, the same way a soldier feels when he straps on his gun and goes to war. It was as if the blade had chosen me as much as I ha

Blade stood there still, not moving from his spot, but he was looking at his body, which shrank down to my size. "How do you feel?" Althea asked in a soft voice, and Blade tilted his head to look at her. "I feel okay. You, how do you feel looking at me? Will you be able to distinguish between me and Stone?" I wanted to snicker, even with his first mate, Blade refused displays of affection in public places, but he had his own way of showing how much he cared with his words. Althea’s eyes widened as she shrugged her shoulders. "Same. I know it’s you in there because I see some clouds in front of you."

Justice finishes talking, a gust of red wind appears and blows our hair all over. "Here," SpeedBlade screams, throwing everything in his arms right in front of Ms. Justice. The two of us, at first stun by his sudden appearance, barely have time to get out of the way as SpeedBlade throws everything down. A pile of machine parts; gears, pipes, some sheet metals, and other things, all collapse onto Ms. Justice's metal net.

From what was said about Blade’s club, it didn’t seem so, but this group hadn’t hurt anyone that she knew of. The trouble they were in was very real. Blade and his men had come here for one purpose and one purpose only, to take down and burn out this compound. The fact that they were caught by surprise was indeed fortunate for this group but she thought this Blade wouldn’t let that happen again. The next time, he would be prepared for anything and the tribe might get dragged into an all out war.

Her blood was on his hands, but their blood was on mine, I didn't mind, with them gone the world was a better place. Blade growled and tried to stand. His hind legs were hurt, but he managed to get back up, albeit a little wiggly. He walked over to me, pressing his snout against my neck. He wanted to comfort me, but the moment Blade touched me, I could feel his pain. He was badly injured. Blade's touch didn't have the effect on me that James's touch did, he was the one I needed but more so, he needed me right now. If they were to pick up the war again, James wouldn't be able to fight and the others were just as badly injured.