Demonic Blade Novels & Stories

An awesome racing legend in its era, this silver seraph was designed with the finest in styling, racing, and reliability in mind. Soldiers of the Holy Empire fight with greater courage and less fear when there is a Seraph amongst their ranks, for death is not necessarily permanent. After this period of time, the system operation, monitoring and measurement of process and the internal audit, seraph success through these standards, certification. A fallen angel... enshrined in moonlit seas. Only because he is a fallen angel, everything is full of sad …

“Maybe. But you didn’t. And now here we are.” The clearing around us was dead silent, as if even the forest refused to bear witness to what came next. Damon reached into his coat and pulled out a blade—curved, obsidian black, humming with faint energy. “Do you know what this is?” I didn’t answer. “Ancient werewolf iron. Soaked in the blood of an Alpha god.” He raised the blade to my throat, letting it graze my skin. “It’s meant to subdue power like yours. The Luna Star can’t be allowed to run wild, after all.”

The demon cried out in shock and Damon swiftly stabbed him in the chest, straight in his heart and using the same blade, he chopped off his head. The rest of the demons were looking terrified but they still attacked Damon... however they all met their end swiftly but painfully. Damon's blade was covered and dripping of blood when he was done but there was no time to dwell on his victory as Damon gazed ahead and saw a demon, a high ranked demon slicing through his men like they were pieces of paper and thin cloth.

Desperation clawed at Damien’s throat, a useless plea for mercy trembling on his lips, as he now found himself bargaining with death's shadow, pleading for a sliver of life he seemed no longer entitled to. Yadiel raised his silver blade, its edge glinting with a deadly promise in the dim light. With every muscle tensed for the kill, he prepared to deliver a series of devastating strikes to Damien. In the ruthless gaze of a villain, the bonds of blood were rendered meaningless—a mere whisper of kinship drowned out by the clamor for power.

Sporadic sparks erupted between the sword blade and the sharp claws; the demon's skin was even tougher than steel, and ordinary sharp weapons were unable to injure the slightest bit of it. The man flipped his wrist, however, and seemed to pour some kind of marvelous and holy power into it, and the cold blade of the sword quickly flashed with a pale golden vein. The next thing he knew, the blade, which had been restrained by Crosier, easily sliced through his palm, slicing down horizontally, and finally slicing off half of the demon's small, slender arm. "... because he has a terrible temper," Shaykh added nonchalantly, apparently too late.

Didn't want Thrakos to dig into that. "Then you'll need a ride. But first," Thrakos's tone dropped, "you'd need the Hell-blade. A sword made by my father's own hands, strong enough to gut a God down. If you want to kill my brother, you'd need the sword.” “Yeah," I mumbled as I clutched my belly tighter. “But eat now, plan later." The sweet smell of baked bread wafted through the air, greeting my nose. I turned, scanning the stalls for the source of the smell as my stomach growled louder.

“De... demon!” Samantha smiled a big toothy smile. “Finally, SOMEONE KNOWS MY NAME!!!” She swiped quickly with her blade, separating his head from his neck and looking on as his body hit the ground. “Aw damnit!” She pouted and looked at me. “I could have used him to find the cells. Ugh!!!”

But Edna refused to be overwhelmed. Drawing upon her inner strength, Edna channeled her focus into a single, powerful strike. She raised her silver blade high above her head, gathering the energy of her will and determination. With a mighty cry, she brought the blade down, slicing through the flames and cutting a path towards Belial. The blade connected with the demon queen's armor, a resounding clash that sent shockwaves through the chamber. Sparks flew as Edna's silver blade resonated with the pure essence of righteousness, a force that clashed with the darkness emanating from Belial.

The blade glistens in the sun, showing that it's made completely of silver. "XANDER! STOP!" Darius shouts at him. Xander takes a quick look behind him, baring his teeth as he does so. It no longer looks like he's human. Rather he's become more demonic than human. Without blinking, Xander stabs the knife, aiming for my chest. I manage to block his blow, but just barely. Xander manages to knock me to the ground, falling on top of me. I raise my hand up to prevent the blade from coming any closer.

The demon was dead, and so was Hespera, but no one else should die. ‘Your blood is the ultimate cure for all supernatural-inflicted wounds.’ Hespera's words swirled on repeat inside my mind. I was praying with everything I had for those words to be true. The Moon Blade was without a doubt a supernatural weapon, and the belief that I would be able to save Tyrion was the only thing that gave me the courage to kill the demon.