Danmachi: Sword Oratoria Novels & Stories

He knew himself that he cant buy a good sword as he have to buy body tempering technique too with this little amount of money. As he tried to pick a sword he saw a beautiful black sword in the corner of rack, Theo mesmerized and uttered," what a beautiful black sword", suddenly from back he heard the word," isn't it beautiful, to sad the cultivator from whom i got the sword told me that this sword cannot cut anything, its dull sword". Suddenly as if deciding something Theo decide that he will take that sword. Theo walked out of the blacksmith shop shouting," Thank you, old man jiang"

During work, he kept his head down, but at home, he needed to vent. Unable to release it in bed, he chose another way—violence. He was addicted to it, and he enjoyed hurting people. At first, he would find excuses to argue before hitting. Later, even a glance could set him off. Sometimes it was a cup. Sometimes a chair. When she saw me, she grabbed my arm. The first thing she said shocked me. “Emma, you were reborn too, weren’t you?”

She raised the heavy silver sword, pretending to aim for a clean, swift decapitation to satisfy the onlookers. But as she leaned down, the theatrical tears instantly vanished from Liora's eyes. Her face twisted into a cold, triumphant, and venomous glare. "Goodbye, my sweet, stupid sister," Liora hissed in a breath so quiet, so deadly, that only Tatsumi could hear it over the rushing wind. "You always were too weak to rule. The crown is going to look much better on me anyway." Instead of swinging the blade in a wide arc at her neck, Liora violently shifted her weight and drove the heavy silver blade straight forward. With a sickening, wet crunch, she plunged the lethal metal ruthlessly direc

The man’s mouth opened to shout. Leigh was a blur. Her dagger flashed, not for a killing strike, but a silencing one—upward through the jaw, into the brain. The man crumpled without a sound. She caught him, lowering him gently into the shadows. Her eyes met Makil’s, cold and efficient. No hesitation. The battlefield. But the movement had been seen. A shout went up. A pointing finger. The chanting stuttered, then rose into a roar of alarm. “Time’s up!” Duncan bellowed, hefting his great axe. “Light the fuses! To the ropes!”

Two wolves were engaged in a vicious fight across the training grounds, snarling at one another. Damon's voice broke the tenseness. "Once more." Before turning to face Damon, one of the combatants, Orin, a robust, scarred outlaw with a lifelong smirk, spat blood onto the ground. "I don't follow your instructions." Damon's face stayed expressionless. "Then leave." His voice was stern and brave.

Dark and fast and wrong. Damon dropped to his knees. "NO!" The scream tore from my throat, raw and agonized. "NO! DAMON!" Millen stood over him, her sword dripping, her face flushed with victory. "Game over," she said. And then she raised her blade for the killing blow.

She has a good shape, and those curves, they’re just perfect Luna material. Snap out of it, Ryu. “Meet me in my chambers.” … I rocked the chair back and forth as I waited for weak little Samantha to walk in. Unlike others, she could easily get in and out of my chambers, and my trust sword barely worked around her. I had to find out if my theory was true, so this other sword attached will show if truly I was correct about my theory or not. “Alpha Ryu.” The door opened, and she walked in. A smirk appeared on my face as the two swords cut loose, swinging towards her.

She was successfully distracting him otherwise! "Ha!" Suddenly, Orpah shouted and lunged at Damian's chest with her daggers. Damian neatly sidestepped the attack easily. However, Orpah suddenly raised her leg again and delivered a powerful downward strike that was aimed directly at his head. Damian felt his heart pounding wildly as he quickly averted his eyes, not daring to look ahead. However, he also shot out his leg, quicker than a bolt of lightning, launching a flying kick toward Orpah.

AMRETH’S POV Marcus didn’t hesitate for a second. He unsheathed the sword from his side and handed it to me carefully. The blade pressed against my palm while silence fell over the courtyard again. Because everyone knew what was about to happen. Damian’s expression hardened while he took several steps backwards. My eyes remained locked on Damian as anger surged through me. “I am going to slit your throat,” I boomed. Genuine fear crossed Damian’s face at my words. I didn’t waste any more time. I moved, charging straight at him with fury raging inside of me. Damian barely managed to draw his sword in time. Our blades collided, and the impact made my hands shake.

The Phantom Blade was too light for something designed to end a life. It sat in Damian’s palm, a sliver of polished titanium that seemed to pull the nursery’s amber light into its edge. Damian didn’t look like a man whose estate was currently being dismantled by orbital strikes. He looked like a man who had finally solved a tedious riddle. He rotated the needle between his thumb and forefinger, his movements slow, deliberate, and terrifyingly steady. "The lion’s head engraving," he murmured.