Heavy Blow Hollow Knight Novels & Stories

Creed saw the blade coming at his head and dodged at the last moment with his saber. "Check and mate!" Almost immediately, a vicious grin appeared on her face. The strike changed direction in a flash and bolted straight at his gut. However, a faint voice bubbled up in her ears. His body was still in the air, but his voice was clear enough. "I was wondering why your family calls this technique 'Hollow Strikes'... so that's why..." Blood pumped in her veins. Her smile sewed shut as she tried to understand what he blurted out. The beads of sweat grew bigger on her forehead, as if she saw a ghost. A terrifying ghost she had never seen before. 'fuck...this can't be happening!"

His left eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in blood. He was grinning, though. "There she is," he declared. "The real Silverblood. Not the frightened girl. The weapon." "I am not a weapon." "Everyone is a weapon," Kain said. "Some just refuse to admit it." He launched himself at her again. This time, when they collided, the force of it created a shockwave that flattened the grass around them. They traded blows. Fast. Brutal. Each strike is powerful enough to kill a normal human.

Heavily armored knights were flailing frantically, their silver plates acting as anchors, dragging them deeper into the suffocating clay with every desperate struggle. ​Killian hit the base of the valley floor like a dark meteor, his massive claymore unsheathed and dripping with the first splash of enforcer blood. His amber eyes were entirely gone, replaced by the pitch-black void of his feral wolf as he hacked through a group of vanguard soldiers trying to drag their commander from the mire.

Its face looked almost normal until it smiled too wide. “You carry the throne of ruin,” it said softly. “I said I’m not your queen.” “But you will be.” The cracks beneath its skin brightened. Kael moved before I could react, throwing a blade directly into the Hollow’s chest. The creature staggered backward with a distorted screech. Then chaos exploded. The Hollows attacked all at once. Kael shoved me aside just as one lunged toward us. Its claws sliced through the air inches from my face. “Run!” he shouted.

Behind me, the cries of the hurt were drowned out by the roar of fire climbing the walls. I yelled over my shoulder, "Keep going!" As the floor shook again, my boots slid on loose debris. "We are above the throne room." He gets stronger every second we waste. Out of the haze jumped a shadow that looked like a member of the Hollow Guard. Their armor was shining with an odd light. When it hit me, there was a clash of steel, and sparks flew between us. Even though the blow shook my bones, I pushed it back and slammed my blade through the weak spot under its helm.

He uses the blunt side of the Claymore to push Ash back then he swings. It was so fast, I barely even saw it, and I'm sure Ash didn't see it at all. With one stroke he cut Ash in two from the waist. Chaos erupts. Everyone roars as we run to Ash. The Knight moves fast, heading straight for Sophia like he knows which one of us is the strongest. He blocks her path, and he swigs again, aiming for her head but Sophia blocks with her arms. And he cuts right through them, and she roars in pain

Heading west, the journey was long. Along the way, Gideon focused on studying the Soaring Immortal's Blow. He discovered that the ultimate technique created by Annalise was incredibly profound, in no way inferior to the Doombringer Knuckle developed by Ronan. The core principle of Soaring Immortal's Blow was a decisive, kill-in-one-strike move. It was an absolute, dominant technique. What surprised Gideon was that within Soaring Immortal's Blow, he sensed the essence of swordsmanship. It had the speed, precision, and ruthlessness of a sword art.

The Hollow’s mark flared across his chest as he struck Clint. They tumbled through fire and bone, the ground quaking beneath them. Sarah hit the dirt coughing, clawing herself up. John’s claws tore through Clint’s shoulder, but Clint laughed rising from the wound like it was nothing. “You still don’t get it,” Clint said, eyes glowing a deeper, darker red than any moon. “I’m not just a Hollow. I am the Blood Moon.” Then Clint’s body erupted, bones cracking, twisting, not a wolf, not a man, a godless fusion of both.

In a blur, he countered with a ferocious blast of wind from his palm, the sound of it tearing through the air. Thud! The elder was sent flying like a broken kite, crashing to the ground with a bone-crushing impact. "War...martial knight..." he gasped, managing only those few words before his head lolled to the side, lifeless. "Great Elder!" The anguished cry filled the air. "Together! Take them down!" came a furious shout. The robed figures surged forward in unison, all converging on Mystical Chubby. "Fools!" Mystical Chubby's gaze hardened as he prepared to strike again.

The relic blade trembled in her grasp, still pulsing with the energy of a forgotten age. Ethan knelt beside her, drenched in sweat and shadows. The Hollow’s influence had not retreated entirely. It simmered beneath his skin, veins flickering with both molten gold and inky black. His chest heaved with labored breaths as if every inhale was a battle between who he was and what the Hollow wanted him to become. "Kaela..." His voice cracked. The sound was human. Fragile. Hers. She turned to him, brushing a hand over his cheek. "You're still here."