Novel & Cerita Legacy Of The First Blade

Night Blade watched with cruel delight as hope flickered in those fear-stricken eyes… He waited… Waited until Lenin clung to it like a lifeline- Then crushed it, glowing with childish or rather impish delight. “Oh… the ones outside?” Night Blade stared at his hands with mild dissatisfaction. He wriggled his fingers, “Gone to meet their maker before I even got to move these…” “Gone???” Lenin’s eyes widened as they filled with horror, an emotion he had never known. Others might not understand but he did… His men were not just ordinary thugs; they were battle hardened soldiers. Later, they became mercenaries who lived on the edge of blade and had never lost a battle.

Where he had stood, only fire-smoke and silence remained. --- I stood over the ruin, shaking, blood soaking my arm, lungs scraping like torn bellows. My wolf pressed its muzzle against my ribs. Nyxara whispered, quiet now: The first god has fallen. The words echoed. The First Blade was dead. By my hand.

Every step Lena took felt heavier, as if unseen hands were pressing down on her shoulders. Cassian and Dorian followed in silence, their expressions grim. Even they didn’t know what this trial entailed. At last, they reached a chamber unlike the others. At the center stood an altar—carved from obsidian, veins of molten gold running through it like lifeblood. Floating above it was a dagger, its blade forged from a material Lena didn’t recognize, its edges glowing with an eerie silver light. Idris moved to stand beside the altar. “This is the Blade of Ancients,” he said. “Forged in the fire of the first Trueborn. It does not spill blood—it takes something far deeper.”

It looked dangerous… sacred… and strangely familiar. “The Blade of Tenebris,” I murmured, recalling the words I’d once tried so hard to forget. “It cuts not flesh, but spirit. A single strike leaves enemies hollow, their will severed. It was quenched in the Void during the First Apex War. Every wielder leaves behind a fragment of their soul.”

I thought if I was calm, if I was reasonable, I could get through to her. Now, with nothing left to lose, he was breaking free. And Blade… Blade was dangerous. Blade wasn’t just any wolf. He was cursed. Marked. When I was eighteen, my father was still Alpha, and we went to war with a witch’s coven who were preying on our borders. We won. I won. It made my father proud of me and everyone admired me. But the last witch, with her dying breath, didn’t curse me. She cursed him. She twisted something in Blade’s spirit, making his rage a living thing, a madness that could consume us both.

We didn't even inform our parents. Instead, we had a simple ceremony in our rented apartment. I wore a wedding gown and married the love of my life. However, he didn't pull out a ring from amidst the bouquet—he pulled out a sharp fruit knife. The blade slashed against my skin, making my blood flow. I heard him repeating, "Why is life so unfair to me? Why?" This was my wedding night, which I'd dreamed of countless times since childhood. I spent two hours of it lying in a pool of blood as Liam stabbed me over 160 times. Each stab avoided my critical organs.

“The Knife of the Heavens.” The words sent a sharp, cold chill down Daniel’s spine. His head snapped up just as the elder reached beneath his robe and unsheathed a blade unlike anything he had ever seen. The celestial blade shimmered like molten gold, pulsing with divine energy. The moment it was drawn, Daniel felt it in his soul. This was no ordinary weapon. This was something crafted to kill things like him. “A death by this blade will sever his existence completely,” the elder stated. “No rebirths. No resurrections. No cycles. If we strike now, the entity will be erased forever.”

The First Elder’s face was as pale as a white paper, but he still gritted his teeth and once again stomped his feet, and continued to control his Chi energy to fight with the other party. “Hahaha! Old man, you’re injured! I’ll see how long you can hold on!” Kenneth’s opponent—an old man—laughed out loud with a smug look. “First Elder, please hold on!” Fane’s face sank deeper, and killing intent surged in his eyes. He swung his arm and shouted out, “Blade Wave!” Swoosh! Swoosh! In the blink of an eye, hundreds of terrifying Chi attacks in the form of blade waves shot out and charged forward. Behind the first wave of the blade wave was another wave, forming a series of blade waves. The attack

“I think the Tomb of the Blade Alpha is there.” The room goes still. Alvera sucks in a sharp breath, her hand flying to her chest like she’s trying to steady her racing heart. I stop pacing, my body stiffening as the words sink in. The Blade Alpha. The name alone sends a chill down my spine, stirring memories of old stories whispered in the dead of night, legends of a ruthless Alpha whose blade could cut through anything, even a wolf’s bond with their pack. “You think,” I repeat slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Or you know?”

“Lena, it would be nice to hear what’s going on by now.” I shook my head, my hands balling up into fists. “I don’t know.” But that was a lie. Because deep down, I did. The First was a jail for the Old Ones. This is very like a jar forced to hold what was never meant to be contained. And when she shattered, when the Council saw they couldn’t cage what she'd kept trapped within her bones, they didn’t obliterate the power. They redirected it.