God Sword Command Novels & Stories

"How dare you show such disrespect to your ancestors!" As Daxton unsheathed the Alexa Sword, the blade quivered with anticipation, emitting a crisp, melodic hum that echoed in the air. A cold gleam flickered across its surface, casting an aura of divine power. In the presence of such a formidable weapon, who could stand unyielding? Unfazed, Alexander evaded Daxton's attack, his body moving with practiced agility. The Alexa Sword, when wielded by someone of Lord of War status, posed a significant threat even to him.

"Sir, didn't you assure us they wouldn't attack? What do we do now?" "Calm down!" Gideon commanded, drawing his broken sword. Suddenly, a sharp, indescribable energy filled the air, causing hearts to race and exerting immense pressure. This was the power of sword intent. "With this kind of firepower, they can't kill me. Knowing their hesitations, we can act freely," Gideon declared. "Prepare yourselves! I'll lead and clear a path through the chaos." He turned to Orabella, adding, "You need to help, too, or I'll expose your identity as an Episcoprie of The Light Council. Plenty of influential people would find that intriguing!"

They were the most dangerous weapon in the Excluded armada's arsenal. "Then we had better get to them first," Jack said. He pulled his dark-gold sword from the sheath and checked its edge. The crack along the blade had spread another inch. The Genesis Coin in his chest was fractured in three places. His Void arm pulsed with the cooperative rhythm of the Utterance's partnership, but even that partnership was untested in real combat conditions.

Standing at the edge of the clearing, flanked by ten elite royal warriors clad in the silver-and-black tactical armor of the Shadow Ridge vanguard, was Gideon. Gideon was Dominic’s most loyal Beta, his childhood friend, and the supreme commander of the pack’s defense forces. But right now, his handsome face was a mask of rigid, unyielding hatred. He held a massive, reinforced composite bow drawn to its absolute limit. Locked onto the center of my forehead was a heavy, jagged arrow forged from pure, consecrated silver. “Gideon, lower your weapon,” Dominic commanded, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly dominant Alpha frequency that should have forced any Beta to their knees. “That is a

Barclay said tensely. Doreon saw how the warrior's neck became more taut and his jaw stiffened. It wasn't a good sign, it wasn't reassuring at all. The commander returned with his eyes on the streets, while the soldiers were closer and closer to them. Finally he drew his sword, the metallic noise drowned out the sound of the march, swirled it in his right hand and got into position, while with his left he firmly grasped the dagger with the black blade. The buds on the hilt sent colored reflections on the ground, as soon as the light hit them.

They had equine's soles instead of normal human limbs, long scarves like hijab, and a metal gauntlet in each hand. Taking a deep breath, I decided that it was time to stop hiding my power. It doesn't even matter if I kept reserving it; those assholes already know about me. Letting out a great guttural cry, "Soul sword," I yell. Before I could even take a step, my bow and arrow disappeared, then appeared again with the rune sword. Gathering all the strength in my leverage, I raised my sword high above my head, and I could feel the end of the sword nearly touching my back. "The Smith God of War," I said again, lowering the sword.

It revealed a weapon mark so dense it made his teeth ache. Kohina’s work. It had her careful, obsessive touch all over it. Gildeon remembered her mentioning a weapon Haemos had ordered from her. Something forged with cosmic magic. Something she’d labored over for years. She’d never told him what it was—only that the commander wanted a way to strike a being he couldn’t kill by strength alone. Cold settled under Gildeon’s ribs, realizing that the being the commander had wanted to take down could’ve been him all along.

Regnar stepped to the side, his hand resting tightly on the hilt of his broadsword, his eyes fixing onto the back of Marcus's neck with absolute disgust. "Stand up, traitor," the commander ordered smoothly, his voice cut with a fierce, unyielding pride. "You are addressing the Sovereign of the Citadel. Keep your eyes up and your tongue straight."

“This is impossible.” “So was the Whisper Cut,” he murmured. “So was the Serpent’s Maw. We specialize in impossible.” From the courtyard far below, a horn blew—a long, low note that echoed off the cliffs. A scout’s signal. They pulled apart, the moment receding but not breaking. The world, with its perils and politics, was calling. “The first of the lords’ parties has been sighted,” Leigh said, her warrior’s mask settling back into place, but her eyes remained soft, holding his. “Gryffen’s colors are among them.”

He entered and shut the door locked. What was he going to do? Was he going to beat my ass out?. I shivered in fear. Suddenly, he started unbuttoning his shirt. He removed it completely. His muscular chest and packs came into view. I gulped down and swallowed a lump of saliva. He looks sexy. I found myself staring at his chest and his lips. "Stop checking me out." He raised his voice. "What?" I blinked my lashes and bit my lower lips. "Strip!" He commanded. What? No. No way. I won't allow him. He can't do what he is planning to do with me. No.