Greatsword Poses Novels & Stories

Curious… No power on earth would make her ask Oscar’s friends to scoot over on the bench to make room for her, so when she moved off the dirt area and onto the grass, she took up position a meter away from them with her arms crossed over her chest, frowning. They had better not heckle her. She was stressed, unsettled, and possibly enchanted, too – she was believing that last bit more with each passing second as she found her eyes glued to Kaizat’s arms. The way he tossed the blade between his hands with expert grace and precision as if the longsword were as light as a feather – that blade was smaller than the massive one he had picked up before, but it was still a feat of its own to handle s

Kyra's POV Mark's sharp eyes met my casual and smiling ones as he stood in a confident stance, holding his twin swords in each hand. Both swords were the opposite of each other; one was slender and only as wide as two fingers. It was also long, and its tip was as pointed as a nail's. The other one was thicker and wider, almost as wide as two adults' palms placed together. It was shorter, and the tip was blunt. Both weapons might seem different, but they complement each other quite well. The blunt one only makes use of raw strength and defense, while the other focuses more on speed and agility, making it good for offense and support.

Like a snake, Zen's right hand who was holding his dagger coursed through the air at an incredible speed as it made its way towards the neck of the opponent. Clank! A spark was produced when two blades crashed with one another, immediately Zen twisted his body and tried to hack the heretic with the blessed sword. "Tsk." the man clicked his tongue. "That's some nasty dagger you have their young man, better not cut yourself." as he swings his greatsword around to rub off Zen and give him space for himself. Without a choice, Zen was forced backward. With scythe on my hand, I twirled the weapon around before swinging trying to swing it. I was trying to get a good grip on it. After playing around

"You will grow accustomed to it. For now, let me instruct you on the fundamental blocks." Taking another wooden sword, I positioned myself in front of her, a few feet apart. Raising my sword, I demonstrated the first block, angling the blade diagonally to deflect an imaginary strike. "This is your high block," I elucidated. "It is utilized to thwart strikes from above." Mimicking my movement, her sword trembled slightly as she maintained the position. "Excellent. Keep your wrists steady but not rigid. Allow the sword to absorb the impact, not your arms."

Northern men do not waste words when there is work to do. I checked my own gear. I pulled my massive, two-handed broadsword from its leather scabbard. The heavy steel caught the gray light of the winter sun. I checked the sharp edge. It was perfect. I slid the weapon back over my shoulder. I checked the heavy iron dagger strapped to my belt.

I said. The alpha drew out two swords. He held one of the swords in his mouth, the other with his right hand. And with his left hand, he fixed a threatening pose.

Its formidable presence serves as a reminder of his role as a prince and protector. To Tritan's left, Finrir gracefully hovers, his pack adorned with a sheathed long Viking sword. If his lethality is needed, the sword becomes an extension of his skills, a weapon to be unsheathed with precision and deadly intent. Crafted with intricate engravings and a polished edge, the sword reflects the strength and resilience that Finrir embodies. It is a weapon that strikes fear into the hearts of their enemies, poised to be wielded when the situation demands it.

I shrugged on my shoulders lightly before swinging my sword to his face. “Depends on how you see it!” I kept a straight face on, pointing my sword towards his face while he moved steps away from the ring line. He struck a pose, certainly trying to copy my leg stance. I looked at it for a brief, rolled my eyes off and focused on his sword which was directly on my face. I struck his blade hard making it fall to the ground while he staggered backwards. He stared at me in quite an awe.

“My swordplay is called ‘Forthright Swordplay’, created when I traveled the world during my younger days and experienced all walks of life. This sword technique can only be mastered by a broad-minded person. A narrow-minded person who learns this technique will definitely go mad.” After that, the old man put his hand on the top of Philip's head and imparted the sword technique to him mentally. Suddenly, the image of a sword-wielding person appeared in Philip’s mind. As the name suggested, the swordplay was open and forthright without a trace of indecisiveness. “This sword technique is divided into five parts, the Moon Harvest Sword, Mountain-Splitting Sword, Sun-Piercing Sword, Sultry Sword,

Gabe might as well shove that pointy stake into my heart. Stepping away, I turned. "How about you demonstrate the correct way to hold it, and I'll copy you?" I watched his jaws clench. He nodded. "Spread your feet shoulder's width apart." I did as he said. "Now, bend your knees." As I bent them, he walked over, set the sword on the counter, and then came over to me. Yeah, it's still just me. Your best friend. Sheesh! "Like this?" I asked scowling.