Evil Sword Novels & Stories

The sword felt cold, even through the minion’s thick, clawed hands. Its blade shimmered with a subtle red hue mirroring Lucifer’s intent. The dark aura surrounding it whispered death. One of Lucian's trusted minions stared into its cruel shimmer, something unexpected flickered in his eyes, a memory.

The light in his eyes grew darker. He hurriedly drew his black sword from its scabbard. Then, narrowing his eyes, he pierced through the dark fog with a vision that not even the night could conquer. "Killian, there are too many of them." Elenor stood up, the herbs in her hand spilling onto the ground. She could feel it even before she saw them. Holy energy rushed forth like a flooding river, violently striking back against the dark aura that had long shrouded Solstheim.

Eddie asked again. "Your questions are getting too much Ambrose. It's time for you to go". Amina said and disappeared. BACK TO PRESENT Eddie smiled and brought out the dagger Amina gave to him. " You guys remember this?". Eddie showed it to the rest. " Wait, where did you get that? It vanished when you used it to kill Emilia". Susannah answered Eddie. " What's that?". Princess Diana asked. " It's called Athame. This dagger can be used to kill any supernatural being, including me and Devoe". Eddie answered Princess Diana.

She stopped when she noticed the room had dropped a few degrees and she looked at the man with her to notice that he was vibrating and she need not to be told that it was from anger. The next she saw was him turning to the wardrobe behind him and turning back to her with a sliver gun in his hand, pointed at her. His eyes were darker than usual and every pore on his body spoke of danger. Her heart missed a beat as she finally realized that she was now looking at the El Diablo her father told her about and she wondered what her fate would be.

Its face will be completely obscured to you. This is an ancient and sacred thing, an altar and effigy to a thing older than the ground upon which you stand. It will not do to dwell upon its nature, as this is something far beyond mortal comprehension, and to glimpse upon It would be to see into the very primordial ether of creation itself. In Its right hand, you will see, clutched tight, an axe you just saw with a handle carved from bone. Remember the magic sword, hold it tightly in your hands. That's the sorcerer's sword. Take a good revenge for her, avenge for her horrible death, you will send her spirit to eternal peace and you will have an ogrism tail to avenge for your land.

Eryndor's Shadowing dagger seemed to dance in the moonlight, its dark blade slicing through the air with a haunting screee-ksss. Each strike landed with a thud-thwack-thoom, sending tremors through the troop's warriors. The troop's hearts raced as the violent zing-ting-zap of clashing daggers filled the field. The savages of warriors, fueled by fury and loyalty, clashed in a frenzy of arms and teeth. The ground grew slick with blood, the earthy smell mingling with the metallic tang of steel. Jack Wolf stood firm, his Moon-whisper spear shining with a soft, ethereal light. He parried Eryndor's strikes with a precision born of desperation, his movements a blur of speed and strength.

On the fourth stab he hit just below the enemies helmet, hitting their gorget, slicing the strap holding their helmet and knocking the foes helmet clean off. Boro quickly took advantage of his now toppled opponent and just as he was about to deal the killing blow he saw the pale skin and bright green eyes that looked up at him. She was older now, but Boro remembered her face like he remembered every inch of his blade, with perfect recollection. He thought he had loved her once, so how could he ever forget her face, older or not. The eyes that looked up into his own were the fear filled eyes of non other then Nila.

"Battle raged on across the continent, until finally, Markelus faced off with Eon. He drove his sword to the tyrant's heart, and killed him. Henceforth he became known as the Godslayer, and his weapon, the-" "Sword of the Godslayer." Minos swung his arms sidewards, like a musician that just delivered a heartwarming ballad. "So you're not really after my father, you're after the sword." "Yes." "You could have just said that." "Where's the fun in that?" "The only one who had fun in this room was you." Cassana glanced at Rei, who gave her an affirmative nod. "I hope you're not planning to be a bard, because you are terrible at it."

Derek’s POV Elise lay on the long table where council judgments were usually passed, her body too still, too quiet. Blood had been washed from her skin, but I could still see it when I closed my eyes, how it had poured from her, how it had soaked my hands, how warm it had been while her breath grew shallow. The sword was no ordinary blade. Everyone knew it. The elders whispered it openly now, no longer hiding behind ritual or pride. A blade forged for war against beasts and traitors, enchanted to tear through flesh and spirit alike. A sword meant to kill quickly. Permanently.

Her mastery of the elements was a dance of nature's fury, a symphony of destruction and renewal. Valeria's dual blades glinted in the dim light as she wove a dance of death amidst the shadows. Her agile movements were a testament to her years of training as a rogue, effortlessly sidestepping attacks and delivering precise, lethal strikes. With a whispered incantation, she conjured illusions that bewildered her enemies, leaving them vulnerable to her swift and deadly assaults.