Fantasy Magic Sword Novels & Stories

He knew himself that he cant buy a good sword as he have to buy body tempering technique too with this little amount of money. As he tried to pick a sword he saw a beautiful black sword in the corner of rack, Theo mesmerized and uttered," what a beautiful black sword", suddenly from back he heard the word," isn't it beautiful, to sad the cultivator from whom i got the sword told me that this sword cannot cut anything, its dull sword". Suddenly as if deciding something Theo decide that he will take that sword. Theo walked out of the blacksmith shop shouting," Thank you, old man jiang"

"I want you to create a weapon. Something made purely of your magic. Something that can harm but not kill." "Like what?" I asked. "That's for you to decide," Ysara said. "Your power will shape itself based on your intent. Focus on what you need and let it manifest." I closed my eyes, reaching for Luna. My power responded light swirling around my hands. I imagined a blade, sharp and bright. When I opened my eyes, I was holding a sword made of pure white light. It hummed with energy, solid despite being made of magic. "Excellent," Ysara said. "Now attack me."

Since she was floating, so were the symbols too, but as soon as the swords emerged from the ground, she was pulled down by gravity. Her body hit earth with a loud crushing sound. The building-sized swords emitted their light just like before. I started chanting the spell mentally whilst my wolf eyes honed in on the screaming Sofia. The light of the swords converged in the center again, but this time, an even monstrous sword appeared from it. The ancient fae magic textbooks called it, Ellerion. Or universe in human jargon. This was what Sofia didn’t know. Only a true High Priestess could pass this secret down to her rightful successor. My mother had planted this in my head in the form of a be

He was sore in places he didn’t know could get sore. Aaron tossed a wooden sword at his feet. “Pick it up.” Victor blinked. “What, no ‘here’s how to hold it’? No ‘welcome to magical bootcamp, Victor’?” “Pick. It. Up.” Victor sighed, grabbed the sword, and immediately dropped it. “The hell? It weighs like twenty pounds!” Aaron’s jaw ticked. “It’s enchanted. Only reacts properly to soul-bound bearers.” “Oh good,” Victor muttered. “So I’m being mocked by a stick now.”

The sword could torn apart the shadow unlike other swords because it was magical built with pure intention not for the evil deeds. "Who sent you? Now F**ker don't tell me that you can't speak?" Zackarya raised his sword as his claws could help to fight with the black magic. He pointed the sword towards the shadow as it was standing few feet away from him. He couldn't let that red mist touch him as it would poison his claws. The rest mist wasn't there to kill him but to cripple him after poisoning hi claws. He could even turn into a human, a pure human once that red mist coursed through his body.

The man was elevated above ground level, he gasped for air desperately. “What is happening?”, the lady cried out, “Someone tell me something, please my child, my child speak to me…” The man struggled against the invisible hold, Cedric lifted his sword to the sky and admired it for a moment. It was forged with magic, long and it’s blade was as sharp as a lion’s tooth with the ability to cut through bone. Then in a clean swipe he cut through his neck sending his head flying, blood splattered everywhere even on Cedric and the old lady.

It smelled of damp stone, old hay, and solitude. Makil was already there, warming up with a series of fluid stretches that further betrayed his training. He wore similar clothes to yesterday, and two practice longswords were thrust into the ground at the center of the yard. Leigh arrived silently, a shadow detaching from the deeper shadows of the archway. She'd re-braided her hair tightly. She said nothing, simply walked to the center, pulled one sword from the earth, and tested its weight. "No rules," Makil said, pulling the other. "First to yield, or be disarmed."

I look at her in shock. “How do you know all this?” I ask her and she looks towards the fireplace. “I had a dream about the sword. The blade is made of Elven steel. The blade is enchanted. It is the purest metal. It absorbs the soul of the dead. Only the one who is the bearer can wield the sword without them being killed.” She says like it’s no big deal.

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

"I'll pay for it for you, as my apology for your broken sword yesterday." I called a waiter to retrieve the sword from the showcase. Unlike the previous attendant, this time a young male waiter with black pants and a white shirt came. He opened the cabinet and handed me the sword. "W-wait, Vans, I don't want it," Livi replied, gesturing to decline. "But didn't you say you wanted it?" Why did she suddenly change her mind? In my opinion, it's a good sword, made of magical mithril material, strong, and can be infused with magical energy.