Novel & Cerita Front Advanced Beam Blades

The swords are bronze, beneath their silver skins. I’m barely two feet from the line, and I give away one of them stepping back from Black’s slash. The howling around us becomes a gasp as his blade is motionless in the moment before he starts the backswing, and I reach out, and grab it with my bare hand.

Night Fury's blade bounced off diagonally to the top right of my view when I blocked it with the scabbard. She then forcefully changed the trajectory of her sword by gripping it two-handed— swinging it horizontally to her right. CLANK! It's heavy…!? Why is there such a big difference between one-handed and two-handed!? "Guh……!" I still forcefully pushed her sword's trajectory upwards. To reduce the backlash, Night Fury takes a step back… BAM!!! …and sends back twice the power with a downward vertical slash. The slash extends all the way that it slices the wall open. "Huff— Huff—!"

And it will be impossible for them to destroy the true enemy - the Beast! John inspected his blades and stroked them, especially admiring the sterling silver engraving that showed up as soon as he held them in his hands. The Blades recognized their Master, their Creator. The engraving on one of the blades read: "Ta - revo" - "I am death." And on the other: "Ve'ol, E'khor!" - "Fear, Beast!" "My blades," Black whispered, still holding his blades in his hands. - How, it turns out, I missed you!

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

At this moment, an elder with extraordinary strength was condensing a spell, turning into a huge blade and smashing toward the formation. The blade was shining with silver light beam, as sharp as a sword. It was aggressive and could not be underestimated.

The world exploded into scent and sound and raw power. When the shift was complete, Blade stood there, massive and panting. But his eyes, when I looked through them, were not the chaotic red-blue of the curse. They were a clear, focused, burning hazel. My hazel. I looked down at the map clenched carefully in his teeth. Then I looked north, towards the distant, jagged line of the Seven Mountains on the horizon. With a powerful thrust of his hind legs, Blade launched forward. Not in a destructive rage, but in a single-minded, world-eating sprint. We were a black arrow shot from a bow, tearing through the forest, driven by one thought, one hope, one deadline.