Golden Edge Blade Novels & Stories

She stood at the VIP bar, her leather clad legs getting attention from most of the men up there. And yes, it was flattering but she knew once she turned around, they would all look away. None of her scars showed from the back, which is why her top was gold and backless. She swirled her straw in the glass, smiling at the bartender as he nodded. “Good crowd,” he said. “Always is. Some high rollers in tonight.”

“Good to hear. We will leave tomorrow morning.” Everyone filed out of the conference room except for Chris. He stayed behind, looking at the swords Jackson had created. Chris had admired the fact that Jackson had crafted everything, including the blade. The blade was only sharp on one side, unlike the rest of the swords in the bunker. Each of the blades had a small notch on the front side of the blade to lock it into place when attached.

"Well, sir you could give us a description of what kind of sword you want and we'll have it made for you." "Well..." And then his eyes fell on it. It was on a different shelf of its own, locked in three places. It was a long bronze sword with a gilded handle that was encrusted with jewels. The blade shone against the dull light that fell in through the window. "What about that one?" The boy looked back at the sword and turned back to look him over to rack an assessing glance over him - or what little he could see of him. "Well, that one is very expensive..."

At the edges of the blade, it is very sharp and bluish silver, while the middle is gold and, when exposed to the moonlight, can emit a sparkling light. Abelard stands with his back to the rock, His right hand holding his sword and his left holding a small knife. Closing his eyes while taking a deep breath, feeling the surrounding air through the passing wind. Abelard’s eyes get opened sharply. His feet hit the ground with all his might to jump over the rock he was behind, a beautiful somersault like a dancing dolphin.

He was still missing a little something to protect himself with. “Doesn’t your mother have a technology company that specialise in research on special metals? Just get her to make one for you. Why are you asking me for one?” Jaelyn snorted. “Just one will do I’ll buy it from you.” Joshua offered. he had asked Richard about his opinion before and he had told him that the Ventura family's daggers were of exceptional quality. It was said that their daggers could cut through iron like cutting through water. Jaelyn let out a soft scoff before leaving the room to fetch a dagger for him. The dagger she brought for him was made of a special metal that was similar to the one from Anne’s technology

Azrael wields the Blade in grace, power and glory. The Blade’s gold hilt with black crystals, the luminous, silvery and steely blade with details of diamonds and golden runes looks incredibly stunning in Azrael’s hands, “After a thousand year, I think the oldest Damned title would be passed right down tonight.” she stated. Her voice is remarkably thrilling.

It almost feels like someone wants it to be seen. And the longer I look at it, the more I’m certain that I have seen this before. Even the speckles of blood on the blade are triggering something in my mind. I peer at it closely, feeling something flash in my mind as more and more memories connect. I saw that before. I know the size and shape of it, the swirls on the handle and the narrow pointed blade. I can almost feel it in my bones…. That’s when it clicks to me. This is one of the cured silver knives that Gianna always uses.

A thin red streak of light tore free and shot straight toward Absolute Evil. The original Greedy Wolf was a golden blade. Matched with this red and white blade, they made a perfect pair. Absolute Evil became the artifact spirit for both blades at once.

A rogue which my boss wanted dead. Well, more dead than it already was. Back against the wall, I slid against the peeling paint, hearing it crackle behind me, hoping the sound didn’t attract unwanted attention. I out the blade in the thigh holder and bought it up in front of my face. Forged of silver, it’s a loan from my employer, a tool of my trade. Adjusting the collar on my jacket, I brought it up as high as it would go, making sure my flesh was covered.