Guts Holding Sword Novels & Stories

"No! Don't touch it!" Kasuga stepped back. "Why?" "My thunder might still be on it. It's iron. Thunder works with iron like fire heat." Jai said. "Don't worry, I'm wearing gloves." Kasuga stepped forward once again, touching the sword by its handle. Determining it's safe, he took the sword with some blood flowing out of the tongue and swung it lightly to get rid of the blood covering it. The beast twitched and both guys retreated in warning. "This thing's still alive?" Kasuga frowned.

Horrified I scream as I pick myself up and look behind me. There are more bodies. Finding a twisted sword on the ground next to a corpse a few feet away, I run to pick it up, leaving my bag behind. A few more people have come out of hiding. Some begin to hiss as they see me, others throw whatever they can find. The sword is heavy. I had been fortunate to use blades closer to my size when Ona began training me those weeks back. I tried to hold it in front of me, but the tip sagged to the floor, the hilt rough in my too-small hands.

After all, why would the swordsman angrily materialize a regular sword after seeing the extent of his ability. ‘He has access to rare spatial rings. There must be something special about this sword. I have to be careful.' Old man Jenkins thought as he briefly looked over the swordsman shoulders and saw that Ruthless had grabbed Wilson by the collar of his button-up shirt that was riddled with holes in the front from him taking the male twin oldie’s punches. Before he could make out anything else, the swordsman groaned and swung his double handed claymore horizontally from the left, intending to split him in half at the waist. Old man Jenkins immediately faced his own troubles first.

A medium lengthened double H sword with a tint of white and gold appeared beside his palm, so he gripped the grip of the sword and slashed it in the air in front of him diagonally to the left. Who will win? Good or Evil ?

"Let's do this." "From your legs to your hips, swing your body parallel to the direction of your sword." he said, showing me the proper stance. "You have to carefully hold your sword but you can't hold it too powerful. Imagine a bird in your hand. If you hold it too hard it would die. If you hold it too loose it would fly away. Hold it with just the right amount of power." he said as he crossed his arms. I took a glance to Austin who's watching me with smile on her face.

I dashed to him and with trembling hands held his face making him look up. Johann had his eyes closed, he was breathing but there were no signs of him waking up. His hand was still holding on the magical sword he stuck on his own stomach. The magical sword did not vanish meaning he still has enough mana to sustain it; he was still fighting on his consciousness.

My fingers tightened around it by instinct. Behind me, footsteps crunched on dried leaves. “That one looks rusty,” Gwen said, stopping just a few feet away. Her arms were crossed, her brow slightly raised. “Probably not worth much.” I didn’t respond right away. I stood up slowly, still holding the sword. My eyes stood on the blade. Rust clung to the edges, and yet—it felt solid. Steady. Alive. “It feels right,” I said quietly. Gwen’s expression shifted, her gaze flicking between the sword and me. “Right, how?”

He said, drawing out a sword from its sheath that was tucked away behind him and handed it over to me. "Hold the sword with a firm, but not overly tight, grip. You want to be able to control the blade, not strangle it." He said in a master’s tone. I held the sword up—-"Like this?" "Almost. Relax your wrist and let the sword sit comfortably in your hand. Remember, the sword is an extension of your arm, not a separate entity." He murmured, showing him how to hold it. "Okay, got it. What about stance?"

Exactly as seen earlier in the castle. The sword. “What does that one do?” I asked, pointing to it. “It drinks blood. For anyone it kills, their blood is stored in the blade. You would try to always have a clothing between you and the hilt” That did not sound more beneficial than fairy dust. “So how useful would it be to protect me?” With only a smile, “very” Time to close the deal. “I have one silver coin” playing with the coins against my fingers. “Make it three and we have a deal”

Boro and Mika stood in the sand circle as the two finalists. The animosity between the two was so thick in the air it was almost palpable. Boro stood in the ready form, Crane In The Water, standing perfectly balanced on one leg, his sword held out before him. Mika stood in a form that Boro didn't recognize. Boro prided himself on knowing all the forms of classical, and modern, sword art, the fact he didn't recognize this one was puzzling.