Jagged Ghost Blade Novels & Stories

The blade was forged from a darkened titanium alloy that didn't reflect a single stray beam of light. My blade. The weapon of the Ghost. I had retrieved it from my old, buried lockbox two nights ago. Using it was a massive risk, but in the dark, against the Vances, I needed the absolute certainty of my old life. The first enforcer stepped around the metal container, his assault rifle raised. Before he could even register the shadow in front of him, I lunged forward. My left hand clamped violently over his mouth, muffling his scream, while my right hand drove the dark dagger cleanly between his ribs, striking the heart with mathematical, instantaneous precision.

He lunged for the bathroom to make himself throw up, but a sharp, searing pain had already erupted in his gut. "You crazy—" He gasped, barely forcing the words out. But Adeline just kept smiling—a cold, empty smile. She picked up the fruit knife from the coffee table and plunged it into his chest. Over and over. "Anyone who toys with a true heart deserves to die." When her strength gave out, she collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Dark, blood-red liquid spilled from her lips as she opened her mouth. Then she fell still. Her eyes stayed open, staring at nothing.

The silver blade of the "System Dagger" did not draw blood when it struck Kaelen; it drew "Static." The moment the tip of the weapon made contact with the boy’s chest, the courtyard of the Blackwood Keep exploded in a flurry of grey, redacted pixels. Kaelen let out a shriek that sounded like a thousand glass bells shattering, but his body didn't fall. It "Lacked."

There was fresh blood on the floor, but the animal didn't react. I took a shaky step forward, my heart hammering against my ribs. The wolf didn't turn. I walked closer, standing five feet away and holding my bleeding hand out. Nothing. I walked until I was standing right next to the bars, inches from the cold metal. The wolf threw itself at the cage again, trying to get to Declan. Its claws sparked against the iron. It ignored me completely. I was invisible. "You really are a Ghost," Declan said softly. He walked up beside me. He raised the knife again and sliced his own palm.

Lost myself in the only thing that made sense in a world that had suddenly outgrown me. As the fire died out, the Alpha of the Fenrir sought comfort in the arms of the girl who had helped him ruin everything, while the Queen he had discarded dreamed of the three shards that would end his reign forever. --- [Dagger P.O.V] I didn't go far. Perched on the gargoyle three stories above the ward. Cloak wrapped tight. Mask still in place. The nosebleed had stopped but my hands still shook. Pathetic. I was Dagger. The Ghost Blade. The assassin who had killed seventeen warlords, three archmages, and a god's avatar. I didn't shake. I didn't hesitate. I didn't stand at the foot of a girl's bed leaking

Arms like tree trunks, a jaw that looked like it had been carved from granite. A scar ran from his left ear to his chin, a souvenir from the underground circuits down south. He cracked his knuckles and grinned at me. "Little Ghost," he said. "I've been looking forward to this." I didn't answer. I never did. The bell rang. Blade charged, faster than I expected for someone his size, and I gave him that much credit as his fist came down like a hammer, aimed straight for my temple. I sidestepped at the last second, the force of the missed blow stirring my hair as it cut through the air where my head had been.

43 - When Big Shots have Too Much Time to Spare "The first-ranked assassin Ghost Blade is here!" Hearing that news, Ye Mo did not feel as surprised as he thought he would be. The moment he accepted that Little Yin would be staying with his family, he had long expected something like this to happen.

"He is mine!" The Ghost realized instantly that he had miscalculated. He was outgunned, outmanned, and trapped. In a desperate, final play, he reached into his tactical vest, pulling out a heavy combat blade, and grabbed Leo by the collar of his uniform. "Back off, Sterling!" the mercenary snarled, holding the blade inches from the boy. "Or the heir bleeds!" Zara let out a shattered, agonizing scream, her entire body jerking forward, but Lucian's hand shot out, catching her waist to hold her back.

He stumbles forward, and I meet him with a kick to the gut that sends him sprawling. The last three look at each other like they are reconsidering their life choices. Ghost doesn’t give them time to decide. Two quick shots and only one is left. I step toward him slowly, letting him see the blood on my blades, and he bolts for the trees. “Coward,” I mutter, turning back to Ghost. He’s already heading for the bikes, scanning the area with sharp, restless eyes to make sure no one else is hiding. I follow, wiping my knives clean on a dead man’s shirt before sliding them back into place.

His fingers worked swiftly, and the fire of birth, a golden-blue energy, flowed down his fingers, enveloping the scythe and seeping into its metallic seams. The next moment, the scythe shattered into a flurry of flying parts. Clack, clack, clack... Never had Logo moved so swiftly. Under the threat of death, his adrenaline surged, and the fire of birth came alive. In just 0.6 seconds, the "Ghost Needle" was assembled. At this moment, Jesta's second attack came. The distance between them had shrunk to three or four meters, their gazes locking in the air, and they could clearly read each other's eyes and expressions.