How To Get Bloody Slash Ash Of War Novels & Stories

Blood coated my claws, the stench of it clouding every breath. The mercenary’s scream was cut short as I ripped his throat out and tossed him aside like carrion. Another lunged, dragonsteel flashing, but I was already moving, jaws snapping down on his arm until bone cracked and his weapon fell. I tore him open from shoulder to hip, and I sprayed the leaves crimson.

he hissed at her. “But my Grandfather?” she whined. “Take this,” he said pulling Light Stick's necklace from his neck. He'll protect you as long as you wear this. Do not come here for aid. Go East as he says, you will find peace.” he said waving his hand across the sky. “When the sky bleeds red, you must battle Little Dove.” he pushed her away from the fire.

It’s birthing faster. I slash another across the face, the shard punching through an empty eye socket with a wet, sucking pop. It screams, a raw, desperate sound. I rip the shard free and ram it into its gut—twist—feel the rotted organs give way under the blade. I shove the corpse aside, boots sliding in the gore, and grab the fallen creature’s broken spear. It’s jagged. Splintered. Perfect. Behind me, the prisoner howls, driving his own shard into the chest of a witch-stitched thing that bleeds thick black pus instead of blood.

And I will be damned if my entrance into Eryndor is caused by this Gods forsaken school. I stand up shakily and move toward the washroom, grabbing a cloth and rinsing it under cold water before pressing it to my lip. It stings. But in a way, it’s grounding. I need to know I’m still here. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and cringe. I look away before I start hating what I'm looking at. I clean the worst of the blood, ignoring the dull ache spreading through my ribs and shoulder. I've had worse. I've had a lot worse.

He crashes into another soldier and both slam into a crate. I blink. Nyxara’s expression hasn’t changed. But I know. She did that. Without touching him. Without moving. Without even looking directly at him. My wolf watches her carefully. “You keep doing that.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Terrible liar.” “You’ve said that.” Another hunter raises his weapon. His flashlight flickers. Then dies. Then another. Then another. Within seconds the warehouse sinks back into darkness. Only moonlight remains. Nyxara finally looks up at me.

The early morning sun filed in around the monstrous trees, hit the forest floor and created shadows. This lush green will turn into fucking bloodbath soon because I wasn’t leaving without my fucking mate. I’d search for her even if it’s the end of me. I am done with all the plotting. All the schemes. All the mind games. Now I need her. I need her by my side and I am not taking an answer for no. Asher stood next to me with his head held high, saliva was drooping from his canines. I growled to silence all the warriors standing behind me. Ready for the blood. Eager for the war. They all want their Luna.

Launching from behind unnoticed; Ash glides through the air with teeth baring before releasing a bellowing growl and throwing all of his hefty weight towards the creature, still oblivious while it fixates entirely on its chosen prey. In one sweeping snap, Ash’s jaw clamps onto the beast's bony shoulder as he makes impact, making the monster release an ear-piercing shriek in anguish. With its deafening cry filling my ears, an icy shiver rushes down my spine as I clasp my hands on either side of my head in a bid to keep the noise out. While Ash sinks his teeth in, the familiar flow of tar-like blood spills from its pierced skin—breaking the monster out of its ravenous trance, helping to releas

I cleared my throat, and glanced towards him. "Contact the elders, we need to figure where we can find white ash, and angel's blood... it's the only thing that can kill them. Those two ingredients are pure poison to them." "Wait, what about silver daggers? Won't that work too?" "Afraid not Ty... it may work on the others he's bringing, but it won't work on him." "Damn.... well I guess we got our work cut out for us then huh?" "Yeah, that.... we do."

We thanked the archivist and sprinted back up the spiraling stone stairs. The next two hours were a frantic, highly coordinated blur. Ashren went deep into the geothermal caves, returning with armfuls of the vibrant, crimson Blood-Lotus flowers. I went to the armory and ordered the quartermaster to grind ten pounds of pure Northern silver ingots into a fine, glittering powder. We brought the supplies to the war room, where Jinx and Drax were waiting. We quickly explained the archivist's chemical trap. "We mix the crushed petals and the silver dust into the coal," I instructed, demonstrating by tossing a handful of the mixture into the war room's fireplace.

For a heartbeat, the warlord was exposed — his side bare, unguarded. Killian moved. He twisted under the strike, blade flashing upward in a brutal arc. Steel met flesh, carving deep into Varrow’s side. The warlord staggered, armour splitting, blood spraying — not red, but black and thick, like ink mixed with fire. It hit the ground and sizzled, birthing twisted forms that writhed for a moment before crumbling into ash. Varrow dropped to one knee, his laugh echoing across the wall even as blood poured from him.