Legend Of Northern Blade Novels & Stories

He activated the spiritual energy within him, gathering it on his Thunder Blade. The Thunder Blade gleamed with a cold light, and a crimson hue appeared on the blade. "Crazy Blade Strike!" A sharp and fierce blood-red blade light cut through the air, flashing through the moonlit woods. Just as the blade light was about to touch Sebastian's body, a semi-transparent shield appeared in front of him. Clang! When the blade light struck the shield, the shield dissipated, and the blade light was also neutralized. Sebastian was unharmed, showing no signs of damage.

But it wasn't enough. Brynhild's blade found Seraphina's leg, cutting deep. Seraphina fell hard, her weapon clattering away. "Yield!" Seraphina gasped. "I yield!" Brynhild's blade stopped at her throat, holding the position for a long, humiliating moment before withdrawing. "Second match to the Northern Kingdom!" the herald announced. The sound of northern celebration was deafening. Our people sat in stunned, horrified silence. We were down two to zero.

Lions and goats clung to her garments, crawling up her shoulders, their stone claws digging in, making the entire figure feel disturbing. Pelin’s grip tightened around my hand. “Manolya,” she whispered. “I don’t like this.” “I know,” I murmured. We moved deeper into the temple, inching closer to the statue. My hellblade began to glow, its familiar red sheen flashing ominously in the dim light. Pelin gasped softly. “your blade.” I looked at her hand. Her weapon glowed in response too. “Demons or creatures” I whispered. “where is it? I don’t see anything?” Pelin said cautiously.

My knees gave out. Above us, the red sky darkened as if the moon itself had turned away. Wolves howled across the battlefield, their connection to me fading like a dying flame. The blade slid free from my chest. Warm blood spilled down my skin and over my hands. I pressed my palm against the wound without thinking, as if pressure alone could force fate to change its mind. Across the ruined ground, Kaelor dragged himself toward me, leaving a trail of blood behind him. “Nyxara,” he kept saying.

Her eyes travel further afield, to the heart of the forest, where a nimbus of brilliant silver blooms in the shadows. She smiles as the cold wind tugs on her hair, and she sends a tune out along the breeze, towards the silvery light. The oldest song she can remember. A lullaby. Soon, she’ll be free. She’ll destroy it. Music made magic, the chain unbroken for a thousand years. All the players are assembled. The hour is late. The first move is hers. Let the game begin. Author’s Note Hi! I’m Saskia Snow, the author of Fable. The saga continues with Book Two, Lullaby.

Wooden posts wrapped in leather for striking, racks of blunted weapons, circles marked in the frozen dirt for sparring. Northern warriors had already gathered, their breath steaming as they watched the Southern delegation with naked curiosity. Torin, Beta of the Northern pack, stood at the yard's center. He was broad-shouldered and solid, his auburn beard flecked with gray, his eyes carrying the particular weight of a man who had seen decades of combat and survived them all. He wore simple training leathers, his arms bare despite the cold, scars crisscrossing his forearms like a map of old battles.

with a scream, Zephyr fought through the pain and opened his eyes and stared straight into the painting. “Blade, the weapon of the nobles, the greats, the kings! “Blade, the Lion of which that all follows. As elegant and free flow as water, as gentle and carefree as falling leaves, as powerful and mighty as the hills… none are greater than thee! “Earth-shatterer bows before your might, I bow before your might, help me find my true calling!” Zephyr stared at the painting, chanting to himself, “Blades, nay, swords, were my favorite weapon after all! Within this painting holds great Focus of the Blade, unrelenting and unforgiving.

His comment made the four sword leaders of the God Sword Organization were utterly stunned. “Leader, the Dark Palace of the northern area is very powerful,” said the first sword leader, Carlor, to Lucas. Lucas smiled and released the Apocalyptic Legion from the System Space. “Currently, my Apocalyptic Legion are all Rank 3 Earth King Ranked Zombies.” Lucas looked at Carlor faintly. “Now, you tell me, is the Dark Palace of the northern area powerful?”

I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding. But if he was not here for that, what did he come here for? “I want you to get a blade for me” he continued, overlooking the balcony and the stables below from a distance with his eyes. When I still remained silent, he carried on “the vendor must not know you’re from the castle or have any connections with us. All you’re permitted to say is that you need an enchanted blade for protection. There’s a chance he would bring out the specific blade I seek with the rest of his collection. You would purchase the blade and return to the castle. If the blade is not among the pile he displays to you, press further and if he does not give in, purchase

My fingers rubbed against my forehead tiredly before I finally looked at them. “Do you have any information about the Northern Alpha?” The moment the question fell, both Gavin and the others shook their heads. I wasn’t surprised. A low sigh escaped my lips. The Northern Alpha had always been mysterious. No one truly knew much about him. The only things people heard were rumors. Fierce. Bloodthirsty. Cruel. A true northern blood who fought like a barbarian without mercy. My eyes darkened slightly at the thought, but just as silence was about to return again, Garland’s indifferent voice suddenly sounded.