Elven Curve Blade Novels & Stories

“Kevlar threaded with obsidian and moonstone. It won't stop a direct silver bullet, but it’ll slow it down enough for your healing to keep up.” “I’ll take it.” I also picked out a military-grade semi-automatic rifle with a modified long barrel and a scope. “Standard ammunition,” I told him. “I’m hunting humans tonight.” “And that.” I pointed to a retractable silver sword on the wall. The blade gleamed wickedly, etched with pulsing runes. Viktor whistled. “The Nightfang blade. Enchanted silver—cuts through supernatural flesh like butter. Twelve thousand.” “Sold.” I walked out with a duffel bag full of gear. If Tulcero wanted a war, I’d give them one they’d never forget.

She held the blade in both hands. The Crescent Blade. Elaris stepped closer, the hem of her dark robes brushing softly against the stone floor. “You still have time to stop this,” she said quietly. Her voice carried clearly through the chamber, though it wasn’t raised. The prince didn’t move or even blink. “There is nothing left to reconsider.” Her grip on the blade tightened slightly. “This is not power you simply take,” she continued. “The blade does not grant strength freely. It demands something in return.” “Death must be real.”

Human, Mangani Ape men, knife eared Elves, green skinned Orsims and even the Xanithite lizard men. They never walked alone, and entire platoons could be seen marching in perfect cadence. Some even in full battle gear, down to autocross teams lugging their heavy weapon sets and accompanying Gearbanes that bristled with arcane energy and steam power. But the most striking tool these soldiers voltiirs wielded was the bayonet that stuck to the head of their blast staeves. The attachment bore a curved sickle blade at its bottom, just the right size to penetrate the smallest of armor gaps.

“What do you mean it’s not metal?” “You see the red edge of the blade? That is made using a very special ore called Wyvern Blood. It’s not quite a rare ore but to find one of high quality is. Dark magic or to be more specific, Bane Magic is used to imbue the sword with properties of flame.” “Whoa~” Matthew had no words to express his amazement. “Yes, in other words this is a very powerful sword. How much did you purchase this for?” “I think it was… Ten thousand?”

"May I see it?" Elric hesitated. Then he held it out. Vera examined the blade without touching it. Her eyes traced the runes carved into the steel. "These markings are Moonborn script. This blade is least three hundred years old " she said. She looked at Elric. "Where did your mother get this?" "I don't know " Elric said. "Its been in her family for generations." "Then your mothers family has blood " Vera said. "These weapons can only be forged by Moonborn. Wielded by those who carry the bloodline. Even diluted, even hidden for centuries the blood calls to the blade."

she asked. He grunted. “They are adequate, Veniah.” The Alva’himar raised an eyebrow. “Adequate, Gerth? You should appreciate the gift you are being granted. These blades are far superior to those crude things your people have mucked around with for so long. Not to mention that they have been infused with spells that will enhance their strength and lethality.”

I remove it from its sheath to see silver runes near the hilt, reading prosperity and protection in elvish. “These are elven blades made with wind and fire elements in the blades and wood. These would fit well with Anna’s fighting style,” I say to Aias as he comes up next to me. “Would you like to get them for her?” Aias asks lifting the bo staff and inspecting the middle. I look over at him and see the seam in the middle of the staff. “Oh it can be separated,” I say placing the short sword back and walking to Aias and the bo staff.

Even without watching, I could hear the clean whisper of steel drawn from enchanted sheaths. I didn’t know exactly what Calia’s gift was, but Valen wouldn’t have brought her if she wasn’t lethal. Caelora was a different story—her light was blinding, sharp enough to cut through bone, and I’d heard she was just as good with a blade as she was with magic. Between them, they had packed extra Elyadrian steel—charred black blades that shimmered faintly with volcanic enchantment. I inhaled. Held. Counted to two. Exhaled.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

In his hands, he held a shorter blade that he offered to Aria handle-first. "Basic silver alloy with moonstone inlay," he explained. "Not powerful enough to significantly enhance your abilities, but sufficient to provide a focus for channeling energy if you need it. And sharp enough to do physical damage if mystical attacks prove insufficient. Can you use a blade, or do I need to assign someone to guard you specifically?"