Energon Blades Novels & Stories

Chris picked up the undamaged box and held it up. “This is to prevent the unit from breaking. There is a gas tank on the front and backing the unit. The rear tank has a hose that attaches to the primary air supply. This serves as a second air supply. The front tank will slowly leak gas into the sheathes to prevent the outside air from corroding the blades. Now for these three blades you will have a single hilt at your disposal.” Chris passed around the sword hilts and a blade. “Take note of the lever on the side of the handle. Squeeze the lever and slide the handle into the blade.”

As long as he survived the upcoming thunder tribulation, the Oculus Blade would be ranked top among all immortal weapons! Severin was incredibly excited by that thought. He took a deep breath, suppressed the joy in his heart, and stared intensely at the figure of the sword embryo floating in front of him. The original crimson Oculus Blade that carried the divine flames and bore the rules of fire had taken on a copper hue, with six golden filament-like lines swirling around it like dragons. It emitted a piercingly cold and terrifying sword intent.

Darren said. I walked across the open wooden floor, observing the large windows and the classically designed walls all around. Next, I moved on to the weapon shelves, there were dozens of blades of various shapes filling the shelves, as well as other weapons such as arrows, staffs, and all the things I had only seen in movies. Then I approached one of the blades on the wall and carefully examined the blade, especially the inscription engraved on it, Enoch's letters scrawled in black on polished silver. I reached out one finger to trace the lines.

Vincenzo pulled out a white hand towel and cleaned up the blood on the knife before dropping it and picking up another one. My eyes widened a little as I saw the blade in his hands. Spyderco Matriarch. Vincenzo rarely used this blade on anyone because in his words 'he wouldn't waste his favorite blade on mere situations.' The blade was only ever seen when the boss was enraged. And I knew the moment was now. I could see that he was barely controlling his rage.

He took it away from her and slid his thumb against the guard. Instantly a blade of blue energy appeared, eclipsing the razor edged steel. She didn’t try to take it back, just looked it over carefully, catching his eye and nodding when she was done. The blue hummed back into the blade, and he gave it back to her. “The energy source is inside the haft. I release the beam when I slide the catch.” She looked it over a little longer and gave it back to him to be sheathed.

Then I grabbed my sheath for my waist and inserted my seven inch parkerized blade. “Holy Moon Goddess! You look like you are going to war.” Rory squealed. I laughed at her energy. I look over at Aiden who is looking at me with some emotion I cannot name. The last thing I grab is my Kukri Machete. It’s eight inches long and completely black. There is only a thin silver lining along the edge. It’s great for combat, but I am going to slice through some of the targets. “Okay, I’m ready.”

"The Ghostblade. Or, as the Old Poets called it, Silentium." "What is it?" "It’s not Western," Kaelen said. "It was forged in the Void Lands, before the borders were drawn. It doesn't generate light, Elara. It absorbs it." I looked at the blade. It seemed to pull the shadows of the room toward it. "It cuts through magic," Kaelen explained. "Shields, wards, hexes. It drinks them. My father hates it. He says it looks like a peasant’s tool." "It looks like a wolf’s tooth," I whispered.

Watching his flanks collapse, his squad get picked apart, with the calm patience of a man who'd already factored in these losses. Because I was exactly where he wanted me. "There you are," he said. He was tall in person. Taller than Valtherion. Lean, angular, with the economy of movement that spoke of decades of combat. Gray at the temples. Pale eyes that reflected the moonlight like mirrors. A long silver blade in each hand, not ornamental. Working weapons. The edges hummed with something that made my shadow bloodline recoil. Anti-bloodline steel. Forged specifically to cut through ancient power.

“You will only train with your hellblades as I said” Adem and Adlee pouted but dared not say a thing Uncle Eren opened the box he had carried in his bag and peeled back the silk cloth. My heart jumped when I saw the blades again: crescents of metal glowing faintly, humming with a strange, dark energy. One by one he handed them to my friends. I sat down slowly on a bench at the side, my legs still weak, my eyes tracing every corner of the room. My throat ached, but curiosity overtook my pain. The weapons looked curious. How many lives had they really taken?

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.”