Greek Mythology Blacksmith Novels & Stories

Then suddenly I remembered what my father said when he gave me the sword. "My dear, always remember that this sword is special because it came from the Greek god Ares who is the God Of War. He made this sword himself" father said "But father, it looks like an ordinary sword. How can it be special aside from the God of War Ares is the one who gave and made it?" I asked "Just concentrate and think about what you want and it will be the thing you wanted it to become," father answered Right! That's it! Now I understand that! I immediately raised my sword and closed my eyes and concentrated.

Then Ryker, our most skilled hunter, lean and watchful, his body honed by years of tracking prey through the forests. His patience was legendary, as was his precision with bow and spear. Cade, the master blacksmith, his muscles shaped by years of labor at the forge, capable of bending iron to his will with his bare hands. His strength was unmatched among our people. Thane, the horse master, with surprisingly gentle hands for such a powerful man, known for taming the wildest stallions and making them docile. His fierce intensity was tempered by unexpected tenderness. And finally Orion, the shaman's son, who was said to have powerful magic in his blood inherited from generations of those who c

There was warmth from somewhere in her hands that seeped through her veins and into her heart. Daki Travis was the greatest blacksmith in the time of General Dana Rein. Chloe narrowed her eyes and gripped the hilt of the sword, pulling the sheath away from the blade. The sword's blade glowed brightly, filling up the whole room. Jucel and Daki looked away, shielding their eyes from the bright light. Chloe's hands began to shake, the sword rattling in her hold. ~O~O~O~ "MINERIA Town?" Neptos asked as they walked down the road of the Galenus market.

They want the kingdom for themselves. They started plotting on how to kill Zeus and Artemis but the only problem was that gods can't be killed with a mare weapon, they can only be killed by a sword called "Ancient Gladius" Ancient Gladius is not just an ordinary sword, It's a sword forged from the past souls of the dead gods. The sword was created by a sorcerer called " Adwen". Adwen created the Ancient Gladius during the first battle in the kingdom. The sword was used by the four gods' father to stop their enemies which were successful and after the battle, their father cast a spell on the sword and it vanished to where no one could find it.

“Okay. The Goddess Hecate and the Moon Goddess created the first werewolf. What does that have to do with me?” “At first, there were forty Menae. The Maven, Agrios, Frouros, and the Giatros. Athena provided the gift of knowledge for the Maven. Artemis, bless her soul, made the Agrios as wild as she could. The Giatros were given their healing ability from Asclepius.” She sits tall and looks proud for some reason, then looks more serious. “Aries provided courage, strength, and the minds of warriors to the Frouros. He made them look like Perses to get in good favor with the Titan.” I purse my lips and look at her. She asked me to be open-minded. I’m trying, but even for as much as I know about

He gave me a soft smile, making me return a shy smile. “You know, in Greek mythology, Althaia was the Queen of Calydon, and a woman of fierce passion. She is celebrated in an ancient story about the fate of her son, Meleager. When he was born, the Moirai, or the Fates in English, came to foretell his future, and they predicted he would die as soon as one of the sticks in the fireplace burned out completely. When Althaia heard that, she pulled the stick from the fire, put the fire out, and hid it in a safe place.”

Yet one day, they would be her subjects. The blacksmith stood dutifully at the anvil, his massive frame silhouetted against fire. His ashen, both by colour and the ashes of the coal, made some sense as to why his hair was tied back. Revealing a face lined with soot and scars. His arms, corded with decades of labour, swung a huge hammer, as though it were weightless, in a rhythm that seemed to shake the very ground. Sparks leapt like dying stars around him, but he didn't once flinch. This forge, like all forges, was run by the Wingless.

A massive bronze statue appeared in front of them. The statue stood nearly twenty meters tall. A massive bronze turtle sat below it, and a lifelike Scylla sat above it. That turtle was the black cooter, a mystical creature that also happened to be the god of the Iron family.

“A handcrafted sword made by Hephaestus himself.” “The Greek blacksmith? It can’t be an ordinary sword if it’s somewhere in here.” “It’s not. It’s regarded as the God Killer.” “It says here that it cant be destroyed by the mortal hand. So that would mean only another God can destroy it.” “I don’t think so, look. It depicts fire as its destroying element, but the words ‘mortal hand’ tells me only a particular fire can be used.” “Hellfire.” “That would be correct young man.” Hearing the old, croaked voice, we all spun around and looked to the doorway. Standing there was the head of the council.

He got to live without it, always following him like a shadow. "Exactly." I nodded, finishing my drink. "You aren't looking at it the same way as I am, Androkles." he sighed. "And how are you looking at it?" I cocked an eyebrow. "Born of lightning, we know that part is referring to being the son of Nikos." He began his breakdown. "A destroyer emerges. That could just be speaking that you would become Ares. As God of War, he is often seen as a destroyer." He pointed out that I'm finding it hard to argue with the logic.