Jagged Ghost Blade Novels & Stories

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

A portal opened between us, she slid through, and before we could readjust— Tap. “Brand: out.” I didn’t stop. I spun, kicked flame behind me to boost forward, flame daggers out, aiming not for her face or chest, but her shadow. I thought maybe—maybe—if I blurred her visibility, I could slip a hit in. She looked me dead in the eye, smirked, and vanished. A breeze behind me. I turned—too late. Tap. “Jade: out.” I hit the ground, not even mad. My whole body hurt, and I was laughing.

Blackie: (눈_눈) “Blackie, Blackie! Don’t be so stubborn! Have you ever played an RPG? Imagine a quest giver telling you, ‘hey pal, you go do some stuff for me’. But then after you finish it, you find out this shitty quest has no remuneration! It’s all about the experience! Do you know what would happen then? Hehe, fueled by their righteous indignation, players will storm off to give the game a 1-star review!” “Transferring to the first world, in three…” “Ah, wait! No need to take drastic measures! Let’s talk this out peacefully!” (っ °Д °;)っ “Two…” “Alright, then I’ll get back to you with my demands later?” (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ “One…” 凸(｀0´)凸 “Fuc…!” QAQ At that moment, everything went completely black, an

Then, without a second thought, he joined her in the water, slashing at his own wrist. As the blood mixed with the water, Grayson's vision blurred. In his final moments, he saw me—there, standing at the edge of the bathtub. His face lit up with a wild, desperate joy as he tried to stagger toward me, calling my name. "Honey," he cried, his voice full of longing. I stared at him, my eyes cold and distant, a disgust so sharp it cut through everything. "I'm not your honey," I said. "Not in this life, not in the next, not in any life to come. Not ever."

Even if she did, she'd blame it on the wind. "Ghost?" Sharon was becoming concerned, "I thought you don't believe in such things?" "Really? Oh, em." Geneva cleared her throat and spoke confidently, "that's true, I am not scared by flimsy things such as ghooosts!" The last word Sharon heard was the word 'ghosts' being screamed into her eardrums before she heard nothing else. The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected.

The Hollow Blade waited for her there. It was no weapon forged by men, nor a simple vision birthed from fear. It was something etched into the marrow of her existence. A spectral blade with jagged, shifting edges, its body wreathed in whispers that cut deeper than steel. The voice it carried wasn’t one voice, it was many, layered, distorted, yet unified in cruelty. "You think you can wear the crown of Luna? You think your blood is strength, hybrid?" the Blade hissed, circling her in the void-space.

A broken blade appeared in front of him, and it was surrounded by a dark gray mist. The broken blade had dark red runes around it that glowed faintly. There was a strange form of energy to it. Fane attacked so quickly that those two did not have the time to react at all. He pushed forward, and the Broken Soul Blade immediately rushed into the cyclone with imperious force.

one voice sang. “We’re already here,” the other whispered as if in my ear. And the fog began to move. I spun around, instinct taking over, and my glowing hellblade met steel. The clash rang out sharp and shrill, sparks exploding between us, lighting the fog for a split second. The impact numbed my arms all the way to the shoulders, the vibration rattling my teeth. Twin blades. Short, curved, mirror-bright daggers crossed against my sword. As I looked up, my heart froze.

The other men in the van rushed to catch their fallen comrade, when a familiar face popped into existence. Ghost melted from thin-air, his eyes black as night. In his hand was the blood-soaked blade that had gone through the throat of the male that had planned on raping me. He smiled at the others, this deadly, flat thing that had the hairs along the back of my neck rising. I’d never say this aloud, but Ghost was even more frightening than my would-be rapist.

The first clash shattered the silence. Kael moved like a storm breaking loose—fast, precise, relentless. His blade cut through the air with lethal intent, aimed straight for the figure standing between him and Ren. But it never landed. The moment steel should have met flesh— It met shadow. The figure dissolved, their body unraveling into a mass of dark tendrils that twisted away from Kael’s strike like smoke slipping through fingers. The blade passed harmlessly through, leaving nothing but rippling darkness in its wake.