Feathered Sword Novels & Stories

The blade gleamed with a brilliant silver light, its edge shimmering with a promise of sharpness. The blood sword! I exclaimed internally, astonished by the fact that I had successfully conjured the legendary weapon known to be wielded by a valiant warrior from Cairos—a neighboring nation to Springgan. Apollo had shared stories about it, expressing his dream to create such a weapon one day. Empowered by the gauntlet, I held the blood sword with ease. The blade's edge gleamed, a testament to its lethal potential. Just as the icy shield surrounding me shattered, the dominus seized the opportunity to consume me. Its jaws opened wide as it lunged towards me. Reacting swiftly, I positioned the sw

“You insult my dignity if you think you can run away from my pursuit!” Zhou Fu looked back and at the same time he shot some of his feathers towards the enemy. The black feathers that separated from Zhou Fu's wings turned into swords that emitted black smoke. The sword shot quite fast towards the approaching enemy. Traang… Trang… Trang…

Swoosh! Poof! Poof! Poof! In an instant, hundreds of Feather Clan masters were killed by the extremely powerful sword light. Blood splashed all over the sky, and feathers flew everywhere. The long-haired young man was startled. Subconsciously, he looked backward. On the Long Sailing, the young man in cyan flicked his fingers in succession. Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

She leaned into it, just a fraction, her eyes closing. A shout from the courtyard below shattered the moment. They sprang apart, the prince and the warrior snapping back into place. Leaning over the balcony, they saw a rider, one of the outriders from the morning’s diversion, stumbling from his lathered horse, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle. Valerius was already there, taking the bundle. He unwrapped it, and even from the balcony, Leigh could see what it was: a broken arrow, fletched with raven feathers. Tied to it was a scroll.

I have never seen such beautiful wings in my entire life. His crimson-red wings are described as metallic with each feather sharp like a precision blade. Each feather/blade has the top part crimson with the hairs or fibres sticking out of the sides, while the end of the blade itself is black. I really envy him. Why does he have to have such beautiful wings? Why is mine not like his? I cried in my mind and again looked up at him. He was waiting for me to go up. So I spread my wings too and flew up to complete the rest of the fight.

With the support of the Swift Wind Sword Technique, Sebastian's sword speed was a notch faster than before, instantly slashing four times. Each sword left sword marks on the falcon, and the damage became increasingly severe. A significant portion of the falcon's health bar was depleted in an instant. Feathers, usually cherished, fell all over the place, leaving many areas bald, with blood flowing like a spring, presenting a pitiful sight. The falcon was in agonizing pain, crying out repeatedly. But it also knew that Sebastian was challenging to deal with. Not planning to give him another chance for a close-range attack, it quickly spread its wings, flying into the air, flapping its wings.

This action ended the battle because the guardian hit the ground hard and laid there cold, wet and shivering. “You have defeated the guardian of flight, here is your reward.” Said the guardian, then he released the sword from the lock. The sword was Grey and red with what looks like a kings symbol, but it was different in two ways instead of a wave on the hilt it was wings. It also had a white wing coming of the hilt. Sekora stared at the sword for a bit, before taking it from the stone. She then picked it up and put the sword with the rest.

Aradaa lay there, his cheek against the rough wool of the rug, listening to Kaelor’s heavy breathing. "Hey," Kaelor rasped. "Hmm?" "Look at the spade." Aradaa turned his head. In the corner of the room, leaning against the woodpile, was the iron tool Kaelor had been using in the garden. It was the "Iron Sword"—the blade that had tasted the blood of kings and machines alike. But the edge was blunt. The point was rounded. The crossguard had been hammered into a handle. "It turned," Aradaa whispered.

She slowly extended a hand and gripped the sword on her back. Once again, she drew her sword. Instantly, a chill ran through the air. Isolde held the sword in her right hand, in front of her chest. Then, she used her left index and middle finger to gently stroke the blade. Her movements were tender, as though caressing a lover. "Its name is Swanflight. It is 33 inches long and 1 inch wide. It was forged by the first leader of the Lunaria Order, and it has been passed down for over 500 years. It is known as one of the three divine weapons of Daneast."

"Fine. Moving on." Fin drew the center sword while Jax stepped back to watch. The handle was gold. So was the blade. Every inch of it. His instinct said wrong. Gold crumpled under combat stress. But the sword was featherlight in his hand and balanced so precisely it felt like an extension of his arm. The metal shimmered with something familiar. Nova's bow had the same quality. The same impossible glow. This wasn't gold. This was something that looked like gold and outlasted everything. A battlefield materialized around them.