Deathstroke Sword Arrow Novels & Stories

Celeste His sword dipped. Only by an inch. It was enough. I rolled toward my fallen weapon, fingers scraping across the hilt. Steel kissed my palm. I came up swinging. He barely managed to intercept the strike. The impact drove him back two steps. His injured shoulder sagged. The arrow protruded through the joint, the shaft trembling with every movement. Whoever had fired it knew exactly where to aim. Not to kill. To break his rhythm. Rage flashed across his face.

He clenched his teeth and raised the sword again. The remaining five didn't charge. They circled him, slow, wolves around wounded prey. He turned with them, sword point sweeping outward, tracking each direction. Blood dripped from his arm into the snow, punching tiny craters where it fell. The bowstring sang again. The arrow came from behind. It punched through below his right shoulder blade and exited beside his collarbone. He looked down at the arrowhead jutting from his chest—silver-white, slick with blood. His knees buckled. He caught himself on his sword, refused to go down. He lifted his head. The five men had spread out, waiting for him to fall. He gripped the sword, its point tracing

One, just except my fate because I was tired as hell and had no will power in me to fight or fight despite my body not being fully awake because I had a daughter to life for and didn’t want everyone to come home to a lifeless body laying on the kitchen floor bleeding to death. Of course I went with the second choice because who the hell will I be if I let some intruder dressed like a damn ninja end my life. I’m the Shadow of death for god sakes so I wasn’t about to accept death so easily. So here I was crouched over the lifeless body of the mystery ninja who turned out to be a woman. Pulling the dagger out from her head, blood came pouring out staining the marble floor.

Like shadows swimming underneath flesh. My blood turned to ice. Whatever was standing there wasn't a man. It wasn't even pretending anymore. Commander Vane raised his sword. "Archers." A hundred bowstrings tightened. The sound echoed across the wall. Halden merely smiled. "Will that make you feel safer?" "Fire." The arrows launched together. A dark cloud crossing the gray sky. They struck Halden squarely. Chest. Shoulders. Neck. One pierced directly through his eye.

“And the arrow seemed to be laced with some sort of poison, so we didn’t want him being taken to the hospital to cause even more complications for others there.” “Wolfsbane?” I asked, finally turning to the arrow and taking a good look at it. “No. This was something green. It looks like herbs but has a very foul smell,” the soldier replied as Darius tried to comfort the twin brother of the fallen soldier. There was only one group of people who entered my thoughts as soon as I heard that. Witches. I looked at the arrow once again and confirmed it. It looked the same as the arrow from before, which had been shot at us with the X symbol.

And I did not make a mistake there because when I tried to look up the grim reaper I was waiting for was in front of me and holding a gleaming but burning sword. "Ralph Recto, son of Luisito Recto. As one of the angels of death. I am putting you to death today. Get lost." At the same time, Saint said that was the gesture of his sword splitting into Ralph's body that traced the shock in his eyes. Even I was shocked, unable to speak and fear completely invaded my whole being. My lips parted in pity when I slowly saw Ralph's body burning in front of me until it turned to ashes and vanished in the blink of an eye.

It was a pathetic and undeniable craven existence but it was how they were winning the war. Dave let out a sigh. "No. He used a HG blade." I nodded. A brilliant man named Henry Gomez spent his life developing a UV spiked, but essentially silver based liquid that could be applied to any metallic object, leaving a coat of active poison that would kill both shade and host upon entering the their shared body. Something in perfectly balanced formula temporarily imprisoned the shade and as long as the wounds you inflicted on the human were mortal, the shade shared the same fate. The HG liquid had become as precious to us as light bulbs. It was hard to come by at the best of times, especially out h

She gnashed her teeth and said in a sad voice, "It's you!" "Three Separations Death Word Sword!" Caspian appeared in mid-air. Without further ado, the sword radiance fell again. The Death Word Sword of Three Separations cut down the Three Separations. It was just the first strike. Before the black flood dragon ancestor could react, the second sword fell. Peng! Crack! At the same time that the thick shield sank into the void, cracks appeared on the surface. "You!" The eyes of the Ancestor's avatar began to turn bloodshot.

Once I reached the top, I nocked an arrow, my eyes narrowing as I took aim at the necromancer's advancing forces. With a deep breath, I let the arrow fly, watching as it streaked through the air and found its mark, piercing the skull of one of the undead minions. The creature let out a haunting, guttural wail, and I felt a surge of grim satisfaction. Quickly, I nocked another arrow, my movements swift and precise as I continued to rain down a hail of projectiles on the necromancer's forces. Each shot found its mark, and I could see the tide of the battle beginning to turn in our favor.

It's clear he's dead because there's a silver arrow sticking out of his chest with a note hanging from the end. Cressida is back, but she's not your only problem. See you soon.