Fingerslayer Blade Novels & Stories

Subtle, but I notice everything. Klaus de Luca. He didn’t see me as he entered a room alone. I didn’t hesitate. Silently, smoothly, I followed. The door was just starting to close when— CRASH! A vase flew at my head. I ducked instinctively, the ceramic shattering against the wall behind me. I straightened slowly, blade already drawn. Then I heard his voice. Low. Calculated. “So... you’re the Ghost Knife. The woman with no past. No future. Who sent you ? .”

He was bleeding profusely, and his body didn't make a slight move on the ground at the time I had satisfied my fury and stopped. I stared at my hands coated in so much blood. My fingers were shaking tremendously. I was nervous, yet... weak. My vision was getting blurry as I dropped to the ground. I wrapped my shaky fingers around the grip of the blade, and pulled it out from my skin. I stared at the blade, trying to study what could be different about it. It was silver coated—intentionally carved to take out a wolf. I struggled on the floor, picking myself up as I tried returning to the temple. Even in my pains and weakness, I could still feel the mate bond—the intense feeling and the inaudi

if he pulls is out, I'm sure the cold air would bite harder. The hilt is wrapped in black leather, worn from use. Silver guards curve up like small fangs. No gold. No jewels. Nothing soft. It’s heavy. It’s quiet. It’s death. if Frostbite Blade moves, people don’t scream. They just stop breathing. Because they know - the cold comes first, then the cut. Raphael said In a cold voice "Watch yourself vampire." Mars snarled in fury, "I have a name, demon!" I restrained mars and said to Raphael.

It shocked him quite a bit. Stephen clenched his teeth and his expression turned serious. Fane had not been exaggerating at all. The situation was even more serious than what Fane had said. At that moment, Fane let out a shout. Stephen looked over to see a large gray blade in front of Fane. The blade was condensed through a hundred Soul Swords. Fane pushed forward, and the blade shot forward like an arrow, charging right at three beasts. Those beasts all looked similar. They had two massive pincers as hands. The pincers were their weapons. Those beasts used their pincers to clash against the massive Soul Sword!

With a shared glance, Zilver and Eskaal charged forward, their silver blades cutting through the night air with a haunting sound. The clash of steel against fangs and claws echoed through the graveyard. Zilver and Eskaal moved with uncanny precision and strength, their silver swords glinting in the moonlight. The vampiric army was so confident, now reeled from the painful burns inflicted by the enchanted silver.

I sprinted towards it, yanking it free just as the next wave of Tainted surged forward. This blade was heavier, but its reach would give me an advantage. I swung it with both hands, cleaving through the nearest Tainted’s arm. The creature howled in pain, but I didn’t stop. I slashed and stabbed with ferocity, each strike more desperate than the last. I could feel my muscles burning, my movements growing sluggish.

"Frenzy Blade! In the next second, Draven wildly swung his treasured blade, his expression twisted and terrifying. Every slash was incredibly powerful. Umbra kept retreating, her expression serious, but that was all. She showed no sign of panic. At a certain moment, she extended two fingers, a strange energy swirling at her fingertips. She pointed them forward. With a clang, her fingers clashed with the treasured blade. The immense force of the rebound sent Draven stumbling backward. His arm throbbed in pain, and his grip nearly failed. His blade almost slipped from his hands. "Kill!" Draven roared in rage. He grew even more frenzied, like a mindless beast. Yet, Umbra remained composed. Her

Lysander stayed close to me, the dagger blazing in his hand, its pale blue light pushing back the darkness that crept toward us from all sides. I raised the Kingslayer. The gold beneath my skin surged, hot and bright, and the blade blazed with light, gold and silver intertwined. The shadow wolves recoiled, hissing, covering their red eyes, but they did not retreat. They could not retreat. They were bound to Lorna's will, and Lorna's will was bound to the king.

Solana is surrounded, a necromancer who obviously isn't fascinated by her, a vampire a mortal enemy, and the foxes, the zealots, the vermins. "The fog began to thicken and Solana's vision is busted. A blade was thrown at her, her reflexes are good enough to avoid being slashed. The blade's temper line is sharp and it could cut a person's head by just simply swinging it, what more if it's being thrown by a big bad fox. The fact that the blade that Foire was holding is made out of silver. "Don't hide, you bastards," Solana said hat provoke, well, Foire. He has the least temper amongst all in the circle. He came at Solana with his blades on fire. Solana hates fire, she has always hated fire.

Are you referring to the legendary Godslayer Blade? "Godslayer Blade? Never heard of it. This brat is just making up names, isn't he?" Jasper didn't give up on any chance to humiliate Woody. Instantly, Mabel rolled her eyes at Jasper, clearly disgusted by his lack of knowledge. "The Godslayer Blade first appeared in the story of 'The Investiture of the Gods'. It was the magical tool of Jordan Langden, the mythical priest. He could easily use it to behead others, even the powerful deities," Mabel recounted the story.