Excalibur Sword Tattoo Mga Nobela at Kwento

Each man wore the mark. Different symbols etched into skin: a serpent coiled around a sword on the left forearm of one, twin wolves snarling beneath a bleeding moon on the wrist of another, a skeletal crown on the palm of a third, and a phoenix swallowing its own tail just above the elbow of the last. Each tattoo pulsed faintly, dark and ancient, remnants of an allegiance born of secrecy, ambition, and old blood.

He seemed to be in an unnaturally deep sleep, almost as if something had knocked him out. Was he drugged? I had no clue, but the fact that he hadn’t stirred even with my presence in his room was unsettling. And then my eyes drifted to his body—beautiful and imperfect. There was a scar on his right rib cage, the kind that only came from a blade. Though faint, I could tell it was an old wound, healed over time. Another one ran along his collarbone, slightly darker, as if the wound had been deeper, perhaps more brutal. But it was the tattoo over his heart that caught my attention the most—a sword, inked deep into his skin, standing tall, like a symbol of war, power, and destruction.

While twirling the glass in his hand, he looked at Jacob. Jacob’s hand stopped for a moment, but he sipped his drink and kept the glass on the table. “The tattoo on your arm,” Caleb exclaimed, pointing towards the small tattoo of a scorpion on Jacob’s forearm. Jacob had folded his sleeves up to his elbows. He eyed the tattoo and looked towards both of them, specifically towards Cassian. “Cassian Holt, or better to say ‘King of Shadows,’ never fails to impress anyone,” Jacob replied in a calm tone.

Staring at Lucjan, he declared, “A hundred years ago, I was defeated by Callan Maverick. Since you are the current Sect Leader of the Gu Sect, I will defeat you and settle the score.” Slowly, he pulled out Excalibur. The moment the sword left its sheath, it radiated a light so blinding that even James averted his gaze. “How blinding…” James was stunned. Though he knew nothing about Excalibur, based on its glaring radiance, there was no way this was an ordinary sword. Swish!

“is just for fun.” Heat climbed up my neck. “And what’s the fun one supposed to mean?” “You’d have to find out for yourself.” His voice dipped low again, and I swore my heart skipped. One of his friends Ryan grin leaned in then, resting an elbow on the table. “You’re not the only one with ink worth showing off,” he said, tugging up his own sleeve. The tattoo was intricate, swirling with roses and blades, like beauty tangled with danger. The other two joined in, each showing me their designs a phoenix across one’s back that peeked over his collar, a serpent winding down another’s arm in precise, dangerous curves.

Ezekiel's longbow had clear color and along with the clear color, fire and water droplets were scattered. Maximo had a pure black long sword, however, when you look closer, his name was embedded in it and with every swing he makes, fire came out of the sword. The tip of the sword was also pointy. Sirene had two thin swords on her hands and it has beautiful designs embedded in them. Every swing she makes, a yellow glow came out of her swords, and the wind was strangely following her sword, Also, fire came out of her two thin swords that made the wind hotter. Hector had the same size as Maximo's sword. This time, it was pure white and a strange design that matched the sword was embedded in it.

(It fits perfectly, okay). After packing, I took my sword and went outside to practice a bit while I was waiting for Justine to return. Before I started I studied my sword for the thousands time. It was actually very beautiful. It was silver with a blue reflection. On the blade was engraved; my daughter. It was engraved in a beautiful cursive font, above the scripture was an infinity symbol made of sapphires. The hilt was very comfortable in my hand, and the sword itself felt like an extension of my arm. The length and build of the sword were perfect.

He was drop dead gorgeous, oozing power and strength. The man lived up to his name. Sebastian Longstorm. The name tasted like thunder and forbidden fruit on my tongue. His deep red robes, ceremonial yet slightly undone, fell open into a V at the chest, revealing a flash of smooth, golden skin. An intricate circular inked royal tattoo, stark black against muscle that rippled with every breath was any sculpture’s chiselled delight. Veins curved like art down his arms, and his back. I remembered it too well. Sculpted, corded with strength, and marked with my name like a secret meant only for the gods.

We were joined soon by Anthonier and Hilra who also appeared surprised at the sight. But while Xialara tried to check for a pulse in her neck and base of her thumb. Something else caught my eye. The ruby colored gem at the hilt of the sword was now a clear diamond. No sign of red. I picked it up by its blade and examined it under the moonlight to check for any cracks or possible leakages. There were none. The red color had just vanished. My blood was gone.

"So, I can see Ace marked you," "How does everyone know that?" I asked quizzically. She raised my right hand which she was holding, held it up and showed me my forearm. I gasped. A Chinese blue flamed-body dragon wrapped itself around the sword tattoo on my forearm. I checked my other hand, the same thing. "How… Marking me with a sword?" "Yeah. Having the sword in your forearms only showed you were the mate of a royal Dragonoid but now the dragon has established itself on your mate symbol, it means you have both completed the mating ritual,"