Griffith Berserk Sword Novels & Stories

I accepted the dagger with a nod of approval, tucking it away securely. "In addition," Maxwell continued, presenting me with a silver sword, "I've had this crafted for you. Silver, lethal to vampires and wolves, but harmless to you, Your Highness. It may prove invaluable within the enemy's stronghold." I inspected the blade, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. "A thoughtful gesture," I acknowledged, feeling the weight of power in my grasp. "It will serve its purpose well." With a swift motion, I tested the sword's balance, nodding in satisfaction. "Let us proceed," I declared, my tone firm and commanding. "The battle has just begun".

He growled firmly before handing me the sword he was holding. Gripping the hilt with both of my hands, the tip still clanked to the ground, and I cursed. “This is bullshit! I can not wield this!” Not uttering a word, Gideon took the sword with one of his hands like it weighed nothing, then studied the swords on the wall. “Ah, there it is, a high-carbon steel blade,” He stated as he took a longsword off the wall and presented the ornate hilt to me. Smiling at the lighter weight, I sliced the air and laughed.

Over the dark clothes, the brunette wore a blue sleeveless vest with gold plaques, as well as a scarlet bandage-belt on his hips, also decorated with the sign of Kitoriya, to which was attached a long sword in a carved black and blue sheath. "Night Raven" was a gift for her pet. The sword was forged by one of the best craftsmen in Norfwold, who served the Hunters. The blade was a unique alloy of metals that allowed it to easily cut ordinary steel. In contrast to the bright blue hilt sparkling with sapphires, the blade of the sword looked discreet and had a matte, dull black sheen. Kitoria smiled and extended her hand to the vampire, which he took in his palms, pressing a passionate kiss to t

If he were to change his stance, things would be over for him. “That’s right,” the Sword Titan replied. “I am the one who forged the sword in his hand. It’s a devilish sword. The Sword Warrior is under the sword’s influence that causes him to slaughter his peers. Naturally, I want to. . .” “Shut your mouth!” Tyr didn’t wait for the Sword Titan to finish his words before interrupting him. “You motherf*cker! What exactly did you mean by calling the sword ‘devillish’? The Sword of Grace is an Astra weapon! Can a useless bug like you even forge it? How dare you boast about such implausible achievements?”

It staggered backward as blood spilled through his open wounds and swung its claws at Lucian who was quick and agile, deftly dodging the blows as he slashed at its chest with his silver sword. The berserker howled in agony as the silver blade burst into its flesh, but it didn't fall.

She held it tightly. Serra thought it was heavy but it was surprisingly light, light as a feather. It's like she's holding a twig, very comfortable in her hands. She stared at the shimmering sword. It has a beautiful gold hilt with an intricate carved angel wings above the handle, the blade was long as her arms and it was sharp and shiny, the light bounced on it, and Serra could see herself on it like a clear mirror. The sword was like made specifically for her as it was comfortable to her hands and it felt familiar and comforting to the touch.

His color in his eyes turned drained to grayscale. Almost instantly, the metallic hollow rings in his grip dissolved, and another sparkling soul Armas appeared. Inside his right grip, a long silver long sword with a pitch black hilt emerged. As soon as the sword appeared in his grip, a dark chain also emerged from its hilt and wrapped tightly around his wrist. A burst of spark stretched across the field. The ground below his feet turned to dust, and he stormed with his unsuppressable fury holding the Hell-Flame sword. Now that he had opened his berserk skill, the time was of the extreme essence.

Her intense gaze, hardened by countless battles, was tempered by her unwavering loyalty to Somerland. To Elysia's left stood Gareth Swordbane, widely feared and respected as the Sword Demon. He was a tall, imposing figure, his eyes sharp and deadly. Known for wielding a blade with unparalleled mastery, Gareth’s skill in swordsmanship was legendary, his reputation as a ruthless opponent striking fear into the hearts of all who dared challenge him. His sword, an ancient blade etched with runic symbols, was strapped across his back, and his eyes held a piercing focus that spoke of countless battles fought and won.

One of the bandits' lackeys was amazed by the appearance of Engram’s rune sword. “What an expansive looking sword that you got there, laddie, do you mind if I take a look?” Engram’s long sword was indeed looking expansive. It was crafted from a black rune crystal with a sublime silver handle. “Why don't you come closer, so you can see it clearer.” Engram provoked while was sneering. Jeremiah felt the bloodlust atmosphere around Engram. He was now confused about how the difference the prince demeanor had changed from the first time they've met.

), similar to the winding of Japanese swords, with a double overlap, the Guard smoothly protrudes from the hilt, forming a small rhombus, with concave sides and served more for beauty than protection. Berhes put a threatening weapon with two barrels on his shoulder and stepped heavily on the concrete floor. The wind, from time to time, carried the smell of enemies more and more, from which thin red threads around the pupils flashed brighter in the eyes of the werewolves. with concave sides and served more for beauty than protection. Berhes put a threatening weapon with two barrels on his shoulder and stepped heavily on the concrete floor.