Demonic Scythe Romane & Geschichten

No one would suspect you and they would usually talk and act recklessly in front of you. “The weapon,” It was a scythe. A retractable scythe that could tear heavy metals like paper and pierce through anything even the soul. Using it, they can open treasures long-buried and kill anyone like nobody's business. It's a precious little thing. And it's in the rightful and very capable hands. Me. •••

Grip tilted his head on the side like a gangster. He slowly walked toward the demon while dragging his scythe against the reinforced concrete floor. He was holding the scythe lightly but it encraved a deep line on the concrete. He swung his scythe forward and jumped in the air. He vanished and reappeared in front of the last head on the right. He disappeared again and showed up behind her landing on his feet. I waited. “Nothing happened, fool!” She laughed not until one of her ears dropped on the ground and turned to ashes.

He’s confident, skilled in his craft and wicked with war scythe. Zane uses a war scythe to harvest the souls to bring back to Death. It’s where the whole concept of the grim reaper's image comes from in the human world. It’s because they took the idea from Zane’s coven. Of course, at the time, they didn’t know. They thought it was all made-up shit in stories. Zane’s war scythe is a badass. The top part of the blade has jimppings as the blade curves toward where it meets the staff; it has black bone-like fragments sticking from it. On the bottom of the staff, there is a badass-looking skull.

Blood-curdling screams were heard over and over again. Levitating in midair, Lucas let out a faint smile. The zombies this time around were really wild, but he would show them what it meant to be truly wild. Lucas was seen raising the Dragon Slaying Saber high in the air. He employed the Level 2 Immemorial Demonic Script, and a demonic aura enveloped his blade. "The—Immemorial—Demonic—Slash!" Lucas' voice seemingly traveled through the ages as it echoed ceaselessly in the air.

“Common for a woman, yet you made yourself worst with your attitude and foul words. Maybe I should just let you die, as your sin is falling worst into Envy’s clutches.” Pertaining towards the lady that’s unconscious and life is hanging by the trend of creating the demon of her sin of selfishness, mockery, high look for herself and into the pit of Envy. He once more clicks his tongue as the devil is getting aggressive by the moment. Dashing forth and fast, he waves his scythe as it caught the neck of the devil. Drawing a winning smile, yet a horrific one, he slices it quickly and perfectly, as the demon could not even process what just happen and immediately vanish into the night where its ve

It was looking for an opportunity to stop Adrian and Rozi's joint attack. The black scythe emanated with an air of death. It felt even colder than the air around them. A faint black aura could be seen around the scythe, seemingly made out of a singular soul locked within. The soul shrieked and wailed in pain. The scythe thirsted for human life, and it would lock the soul it reaped within itself for an eternity of suffering.

If Yule could cut Derek’s and Polaris’ souls apart, Derek would lose his ability of malignancy. No wonder Derek had broken the scythe apart and hid its parts. He knew it all this time. The only weapon that could kill him was the Nyx scythe. Their fight got more and more intense. It was difficult for me to cope up to their attacks and the speed with which they cannoned into one another. Yule’s wolf was trying to pacify Killian, while Yule was trying to pierce the scythe into his heart. Yuki formed itself from the fire lit on the grounds and distracted the shadow eaters while Hikari forced his way into the portal.

"Everyone, all in! Take his head for White Wolf!" The crowd attacked in unison, either using their fists and feet, or wielding machetes and iron bars, charging toward Blood Sickle's head. "You want to kill me? In your dreams!" Blood Sickle laughed coldly as a sickle-shaped weapon appeared in his hand without anyone's notice. It was the Scythe of Death. Countless people had died under this scythe, which was why he was called Blood Sickle.

Zadicus was back again to his mind. All the twelve relics were in his grasp. He had the whole control of the relics Zadicus was bleeding, losing his breaths as before he was a fifteen feet tall warrior. A knight in black armor with his face covered with a hood and a ripped red cape, holding an ancient maroon scythe with an obsidian in its middle, carved delicately to trap souls in it. “You look beat.” His deep husky voice came, holding his scythe while sitting on his throne, looking down at Zadicus but his face couldn’t be seen because of the shredded cloak over him.

Cutter shouted to her as he stepped in to fight off another Reaper. “Ask and you shall receive,” Sky replied. The demon thrust his pitchfork at her, and Sky sidestepped, taking hold of the shaft and spinning it around until she had control of it. The demon held on, not wanting to lose his weapon, and she spun again, sliding her arms down the handle wide and wrapping them around him so that the shaft of the pitchfork was pressed against his neck. The demon strained to break free, his black eyes beginning to bulge. “Infernus et perdere faciam te in nomine Domini!” Sky shouted, and with a shriek the demon disappeared, leaving Sky swiping at air.