Kars Blade Novels & Stories

Standing at 6'5", with a body carved from years of brutal discipline, he was a titan among men. His blonde curls were damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he rolled his shoulders, his enormous arms flexing with ease. His skin glistened under the dim lights, his six-pack rippling with every movement. But it was his face that truly set him apart a masterpiece of sharp lines and perfect imperfections. His light blue eyes had the power to pierce through a man's soul, making even the most confident opponents hesitate. His lips, full and sinful, often twisted into a smirk that made women weak and men envious. Tonight, he was up against another monster a man rumored to be just as deadly, ju

of the Tuning Forks was instantly neutralized, the energy grounded through the salt-mist and the Blade’s obsidian core. ​The Apostles stumbled, their fiber-optic robes short-circuiting in a shower of violet sparks. ​Kael didn't stop. He sprinted past them, reaching the main drive-shaft. It was a pillar of solid steel, three feet thick, spinning with enough force to grind a mountain to dust. ​"This is going to hurt," Kael muttered. ​He raised the Hush-Blade and brought it down on the spinning steel.

Blood darkens his fur. He doesn’t make a sound. The cut doesn’t slow him. I duck under a snapping jaw and roll, coming up on one knee with my second blade already up. I strike again. Deeper. Cleaner. This is familiar. The burn in my arms. The narrowing of my vision. The way the rest of the world drops out when my body remembers what it’s for.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

Haris was taken aback when he saw Adrian's attack. He had a deep impression of the Inferno Purgatory. It was this move that told him that Adrian’s weapons were top-notch treasures. As someone from Blade's Reach, Haris had been around weapons since childhood, particularly swords. Adrian's Divine Frost Slayer Blade was the most enigmatic weapon he had ever encountered. It seemed to possess a consciousness of its own, making it extraordinarily mysterious. As for the Hellblade, he deduced from his clashes with Adrian that it was an exceptionally rare and valuable weapon.

Another assassin. Except this time, he didn’t have Ryedir there to protect him. All he had was his own skills honed over a scant few weeks. He danced back as the assassin lunged again and Kari realized that he mustn’t want to leave any possible warning for Ryedir. He might be able to bring down Kari but there was no chance he would take out the Blademaster without the element of surprise. He cursed as the dagger sunk into the flesh of his arm as he moved seconds too late.

"But what are these resources you meant?" The leader of the Travis Tribe grinned at them as he leaned back. "We are the Blacksmiths of Karhan. The blades of the Travis are impenetrable, and sturdy. If you allow us to make you a fine blade, then you will become unbeatable." Dana stared at the Travis leader with her finger intertwined under her chin. She closed her eyes and stood, her hands pressed on the table. Dana's hands reached for her sword and they tensed when she pulled out the blade of the Blood Star. A black blade with sharp double edges despite the many battles it faced. It made a whirring noise when she pulled it out of its silver sheath.

It was not war. It was soul. Seren’s hand hesitated. “You’re dying,” she said again. “I’m choosing how,” Kael whispered. “Let me.” He drew his blade, its hilt marked by teeth worn down by generations of warriors. It wasn’t ceremonial. It was real. The blade that had carved through Dustborn at the Hollow War. The blade that had once guarded Seren’s mother. He didn’t wait for permission. Kael sliced his palm open, the wound deep and jagged.

Blade knows that Kala would be furious if he finds out what his daughter said so Blade cannot say a word. "You are not answering my question, Blade," Kala said again. Blade gulped when Kala lifted his face, groping his cheeks and squeezing them rigorously. Kala looked at Blade sharply, his eyes were like spikes that can kill you in an instant, his eyes alone scares people not to talk about how his body is built. Kala is as hard as a rock.

Darius shoved him aside like discarded prey, already turning for the next. Another figure rushed in low, blade gleaming. Kael was already moving, his reflexes lightning. He pivoted on his heel, silver flashing in a precise arc. His sword sliced clean through the man’s throat, severing flesh and cartilage with ruthless ease. A spray of crimson mist exploded into the night air, painting the fog around them red. Kael didn’t blink—didn’t falter. He stepped forward smoothly, letting the corpse collapse behind him as if it never existed.