Novel & Cerita Danmachi: Sword Oratoria

“Ouch.. why does it hurt and where am I?“ we both gasped as Elora literally woke up that very second right on cue. Maya loosened her hold on me and rushed to Eloras side. “Nothing of that matters right now. The main thing is, are you ok?” Maya exclaimed, stroking Eloras cheek with such concern in her big wide eyes. Elora smiled and gave a slight nod whilst trying not to wince at the same time. It was not a very convincing act. Even I could see that she was in a lot of pain. “Elora, do you know who I am?” I stepped forwards and she stared at me, confused. “You are the next in line alpha of the pack. George.” She answered.

Demitri gave a triumphant smile. A Battling Warhammer. Delightful. Zierno’s muscles tightened. He ignored Edward’s squeak. Drawing his sword, he heard the whisper of leather against metal as he pulled it from the sheath. A surge of exhilaration filled him as he felt the familiar grip. Lovingly adjusting his fingers until they sat in the grooves Zierno had painstakingly worn into it. Holding it casually at his side he looked reluctant to use it.

ROAAARRRR…. ROAAARRRR… ARRRRRRR…. RAAARRRR… AWUUUUU…. Auuuuuuuu… All those roars filled the sky once again, their spirits reaching their peak. They raised their weapons together and immediately attacked the demons without fear. "Life will eventually take the path of death. So what? It doesn't matter if I die now, as long as the future of my hometown still exists. I will continue to be reborn! The twelfth sword technique, Reincarnated Sword Soul!" The sword sect master shouted enthusiastically. Sword light enveloped his body, transforming the sword master into a sword.

According to Guillermo's arrangements, Sergio was responsible for intercepting any third-party interference that might emerge. "Don't move yet. Let's watch and wait." The martial emperor from the Nieves family of Sylvan Peaks had rare amber-colored pupils. Raising his rough, large hand, he stared intently at the Godslayer in Andrew's hand. He added, "The Lloyd family's Dragon Prince has quite a sword. I want that blade." Andrew spun the sword upward and slashed fiercely at Damon. Damon was both furious and terrified. He had seen Godslayer's lethality firsthand during their exchange and hurriedly stepped back, blasting three strikes into the air.

Damon dropped to one knee. I hit him across the mouth. He swung with his good hand and caught my jaw. I hit him again hard enough to send him into the folding table. It collapsed under him. Helene’s letters scattered through the dirt. Damon grabbed one of the metal legs and swung it. I blocked the first strike with my forearm. The second scraped across my shoulder. I drove my sword through him. The blade went into the meat of his shoulder and came out behind him. Damon screamed and grabbed the blade with his bare hand.

Damian flicked his sleeves when he saw the incoming attack. In the next moment, a tower radiating five colors appeared in his hand. The palm-sized tower expanded in the wind, emanating boundless blue divine light on its surface. The myriad divine lights originally swirling around Damian rapidly converged at the top of the small tower, as if being summoned. The surrounding void distorted, and a dazzling beam of light shot through the air, colliding head-on with the Sky-Soil Heptagold Sword Energy!

But, unfortunately, very deadly too, so Rion often found himself left with no other choice than to kill them. The lizard narrowed his eyes at him. Especially at his sword. Rion knew all kinds of spirit weapons frightened demons. Spirit sword infused with pure spirit energy from the wielder. The stronger the wielder is, the stronger the sword, too. Rion swung the sword in the air twice. It thrummed in sync with his energy. "Sorry. I'll make it quick and less painful for you."

Eryndor's Shadowing dagger seemed to dance in the moonlight, its dark blade slicing through the air with a haunting screee-ksss. Each strike landed with a thud-thwack-thoom, sending tremors through the troop's warriors. The troop's hearts raced as the violent zing-ting-zap of clashing daggers filled the field. The savages of warriors, fueled by fury and loyalty, clashed in a frenzy of arms and teeth. The ground grew slick with blood, the earthy smell mingling with the metallic tang of steel. Jack Wolf stood firm, his Moon-whisper spear shining with a soft, ethereal light. He parried Eryndor's strikes with a precision born of desperation, his movements a blur of speed and strength.

" When the sun and moon will meet again, you will know the answer " " Do you mean the eclipse? " "Yes, but be aware that sword is not gonna kill you completely but it will put you in a very deep sleep " " That is even better since I may end up seeing the devil again if I am to die " " So how about the last question? " " The love between mates has nothing to do with the mate bond, no one can interfere with the sacred bond.." He couldn't continue because Celea interrupted him " Blah, blah, blag "

After I state my own claim Mortius nods. “Then we'll proceed,” he says. One of the attendants steps forward. He holds a blade in one of his hands. It isn’t ornate. It isn’t ceremonial in the way I expected. No jewels. No embellishment. Just steel. Old and worn from ages of use. “Blood binds,” Mortius intones, “where words may lie.” The blade is offered to Damon first and he takes it without hesitation. He slits his palm open. The cut is clean.