Legend Of Northern Blade Novels & Stories

The sword known as the treasure of Blade's Reach was destroyed by Adrian. Hansen looked at the shattered Lunar Edge, completely stunned. The next moment, Adrian struck again with the Hellblade, which carried a killing intent that surpassed everything. The attack was about to fall on Hansen's neck.

Vira's POV The icy mountains breeze was biting into my exposed cheeks as the heavy wooden portcullis ground upward. Kaelen handed me the leather reins of a massive, dark gray warhorse. Attached to the left side of the high leather saddle was a heavy iron sheath housing a short, broad Northern blade. My fingers wrapped around the dark leather hilt, the cold iron biting through my riding gloves, giving me a sudden, fierce sense of purpose. "Can you ride a Northern stallion, My Lady?" Kaelen demanded over the roaring gale, his broad face tight with stress as he swung his heavy frame up onto his own black mount.

I didn't tell him why and I wasn't even sure I knew why myself. But by the time I returned to my study, the story had settled somewhere in the back of my mind. A Moonblade military insignia was found in an abandoned cabin in the northern forest of Cassian's Kingdom. The location bothered me more than the object. If it had been found near the battlefield, I could have dismissed it. Soldiers lost things during battle, equipment was always abandoned, weapons changed hands and old supplies were transported from one place to another but the northern forest in Cassian's kingdom was nowhere near where my brother had died.

It would have been so much easier to simply wait for a skill rank-up card to boost my abilities, rather than putting in the hard yards on the training grounds. I drew my blade, its steel glinting in the faint light of the city, and gazed out at the towering structure that dominated the skyline. The Blue Tower, a symbol of the city's power and prestige, loomed before me, its peak shrouded in mist. "My warm-up is done," I muttered to myself, a hint of satisfaction in my voice. With a final glance at the blade, I turned and made my way towards the northern corner of the city, where the Blue Tower stood sentinel over the bustling metropolis.

The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background. Only the blade remained. Steel. Control. Focus. He spun the sword once and brought it down in a clean strike that would have split a skull from crown to jaw. The sound echoed softly across the courtyard. Then— “You train early.” The voice came from behind him. Deep. Smooth. Ancient. Adrian froze instantly. His instincts reacted before his thoughts did. He turned and dropped to one knee. “My king.” King Vaelreth stood near the entrance of the courtyard, his dark cloak stirring slightly in the cold morning wind.

His ceremonial robes were rumpled, and he clutched a sealed scroll in trembling hands. "Forgive the interruption," the messenger gasped, bowing low. "But... a message arrived from the northern border. The scouts found something." Rhydian straightened. "Found what?" The messenger looked up, his face pale beneath the lantern light. "An ancient structure. Buried beneath the mountains. The runes on its surface match the markings on the Twin Blades." Silence. Kael exchanged a look with Rhydian. The warmth of the evening suddenly felt colder.

Linne asked, turning to look at the brigade member. “That’s the Death Spell, ‘Vindblad Aluterra’,” the girl named Lena answered. “Vindblad Aluterra?” “A Spell that only wind magical girls with sharp weapons can use. The magic is able to change air particles into wind blades,” Lena explained. “If she manages to stick her dagger into the ground, then all life on the surface of Planet Kamina could be torn apart by the wind blade. We’ll all be finished,” she continued. “WHAT?”

"The northern territories are closed to outsiders. By order of Alpha Magnus." Lira stepped forward to match her. "I am Lira of Nightclaw. Former Hidden Luna, leader of the combined force that defeated the Grey Blight at the Black Mountain. I come to speak with Alpha Magnus about an alliance that concerns all wolf territories." The border guard's expression flickered — surprise, perhaps, or curiosity — but she mastered it quickly. "The Grey Blight is a southern problem. The northern packs have never been touched by it."

“Nah. Sold him to the black market. As a slave. Also, the women who saw your face have been removed. So don’t worry about it now.” “Thank you.” I started scrolling through the chapters of traditional herbs. “Busy?” “Nah. Just checking the skipped classes.” “I see. Have you met your first target?” “Not yet. I will soon,” I said, feeling something hard pressing against my back. It was the dagger His Majesty had gifted me. I took it out and looked at it carefully. It was a hundred-year-old dagger used by three generations of Alphas. The fact that it was still as sharp as a sashimi knife made me admire it even more.

"The pass is just ahead." But as we entered the narrow gorge known as the Needle’s Eye, the wind suddenly died. The silence that followed was worse than the storm. High above on the ridges, silhouettes appeared. Not wolves. Mirrors. "Killian, look up!" I gasped, clutching Lucian to my chest. Dozens of Northern warriors stood on the cliffs, holding massive, polished silver discs. They weren't weapons of steel; they were weapons of light. The sun, pale as it was, hit the mirrors.