Legend Of Northern Blade Novels & Stories

"Hm?" Howard's brow creased. "What happened?" Black Blade had been up in the north district for the past month, rooting out the rot within the Shadow Sect, all on Howard's command. In the sprawling realm of the Shadow Sect, the central and northern districts were riddled with the deepest scars of the past. It was no coincidence that Howard had assigned Shylah and Lukas to those troubled lands. Just days before, Howard had been on the line with Black Blade, a key player in the north. Black Blade had reported a nest of trouble, having already exposed a slew of traitors within their ranks.

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.”

Projected to reach zero within days. Cain rose from the stone table and unbuckled his blade, laying it down. He spent the entire afternoon checking every route leading to the tomb and clearing the remaining anti-blood legion outposts along the edge of the ice plains. His hand lifted from the blade hilt and brushed across the surface of the scabbard. Exactly the same motion he made before every fight—brushing that nick. "The northern border is fully cleared. The blizzard on the ice plains will pause for a quarter hour just before dawn tomorrow. Just enough time for everyone to reach the tomb entrance simultaneously."

Enora stood at the edge of the forest, the cool breeze rustling through the leaves as she gazed out at the sprawling expanse of the community. She had tried to talk to Natalie to get reassigned, but that had been useless. Everyone in the team had shivered at the idea of having to leave the city. So, Enora was stuck with this assignment, and stuck with Sebastian, Adam, and Lucas. This time it was going to be easy to remain professional, because Enora was still livid with Sebastian and Lucas for punching Levi. There was no way she was going to give in now!

“Some saw it. Your brother was fighting for our right to stay when he snapped his neck without the slightest hint of pity. As if that was not enough, he took your brother’s body and slammed him against a tree, over and over. You saw just how mangled—” “Stop!” I snapped, shaking my head and refusing to hear any more. The image of my brother’s bloodied body in my arms pushed me to the table in front of the crowd. I reached forward for the knife which had a silver tip. The knife which had been crafted with silver mixed with wolfsbane. One stab could send a wolf to the depths of hell. “If he’s the one who killed my brother as you said, then so be it,” I said. “I will kill the Alpha of Crimson Mo

"Harvest the pass!" The response from the Northern vanguard was immediate and terrifying. Three hundred heavy infantrymen of the Royal Legions surged through the smoking breach, their iron broadswords already unsheathed. They didn't shift into common wolves; they remained in their towering, semi-humanoid Lycan forms, their eyes glowing a fierce, predatory crimson as they flooded the lower terraces of the facility. The local rogue warriors, completely caught by surprise in their leather battle tunics, took one look at the incoming wave of northern predators and the glowing, starlight-eyed Queen at the threshold, and their coordination completely fractured.

The world exploded into scent and sound and raw power. When the shift was complete, Blade stood there, massive and panting. But his eyes, when I looked through them, were not the chaotic red-blue of the curse. They were a clear, focused, burning hazel. My hazel. I looked down at the map clenched carefully in his teeth. Then I looked north, towards the distant, jagged line of the Seven Mountains on the horizon. With a powerful thrust of his hind legs, Blade launched forward. Not in a destructive rage, but in a single-minded, world-eating sprint. We were a black arrow shot from a bow, tearing through the forest, driven by one thought, one hope, one deadline.

My fingers are on my chin as I crouched and looked at it. The cover or the sheath was silver with a few pints of gold, I don't understand the engravings etched on it. Because of my curiosity, I held it and released it from its sheath. Unlike other sword, its blade was bluish and silver, the handle was wood in color and the cover was glass. It was not as heavy as it look. I lifted it up and swayed it... Imagining I was a samurai fighting some bad guys. I chuckled.

Each one held a massive, double-handed battle axe, their eyes flashing with a wild, territorial light. "You ride far from your marble palace, Alpha King," the lead northern warrior growled, his voice like grinding stone as he stepped forward, his dominant aura flaring in a defiant challenge against the throne. "The Northern Peaks belong to the free clans. State your purpose, or your blood will freeze on these rocks before midday."