Master Of Knife Novels & Stories

She refused to let him see her as weak in such a situation. “Sofia? You look like someone who works at the casino I frequent,” Armando said, puzzled. Armando wasn’t naive. He recognized the stunning woman standing before him the moment he saw her earlier. “With this beauty? No one else could look like me. I’m one of a kind,” Sofia quipped, attempting to mask her unease with humor. Sofia hoped to divert Armando’s attention and prayed he wouldn’t mention anything about her past. “P-Perhaps you’re right. Anyway, I’m Armando Quinto, Asher’s father. Nice to meet you, Sofia,” Armando introduced himself.

This time when he spoke, his tones and facial expressions were much softer. "I do not know all of the magic that was placed on the blade. I know that for me, the glow was green, not blue as it is for you. I know that it does not like to draw the blood of its master – that was one of the attributes I asked for when I commissioned it. I do not know why it did what it did, but I am sure it had something to do with it cutting you."

Then I toss back a handful of nuts before passing the bowl to Klempner. Klempner sips his drink. "That's a wicked-looking set of knives, James. Well cared for, I can see. But they look a little delicate for heavy work." James holds the blade up to the light, inspecting the serrated blade. "That's because these are my sushi knives. I brought them down from the kitchen for the occasion." I punctuate my speech with the bottle in my hand, waving it in the air as I speak. "You like sushi, Larry?"

Same as how Rion actually didn't need to eat to keep on living, but it just felt nice to taste and eat a meal. "Master Rexa," Rion greeted the old man. "It is indeed nice to see a legendary person like you here." Master Rexa laughed out loud. "What legendary? Are you trying to mock me right now? I'm just an old man with a back problem. What legendary are you talking about? Hah... you just want to sweet-talk me right now, didn't you? Quit it already! I'm just an old man." Master Rexa was a sword master from Frozen Lotus Pavilion. He was a senior sword master, well-known for his skill and vast experience. Even famous masters like those from Liebu Moluntain had high respect for him. He was trul

A single breath was held. The final thrusts came, drawing a deep groan from Sir as he tipped his head back, withdrawing from her. He raised his length slightly, spilling his seed over her breasts before stepping away. Master, who had been silently watching, moved then. The evident strain in his pants left no question about his arousal as he reached for the tools once more. Picking up the same knife, he let the blade trail slowly along the delicate fabric of her thong. With a single motion, the knife met the fabric—snap.

“Those eyes were a gift from me. Everything he has today was built by me. If I gave it to him, I can take it back. A disobedient dog has no use—just do as I said.” With that, he ended the call. Isabel Knight’s steak knife somehow slipped from her hand, clattering loudly onto the floor. Seraphina was startled as well. Her own hand trembled and the knife slipped while cutting her steak. The next moment, under the table, the Young Master’s hand landed on her thigh and gently patted it. Seraphina froze and turned to look at him. The Young Master met her gaze. “Want me to help you cut it?” His eyes showed concern, clearly trying to comfort her.

Tonight, the armor of our high-society triumph was entirely absent, replaced by the beautiful, vulnerable uniform of domesticity. A few feet away, standing at the massive marble island, the Master of Elysium was cooking. Victor St. Clair had approached the creation of a Sunday night dinner with the exact same surgical, unyielding precision he applied to a complex suspension scene. He wore dark, low-slung sweatpants and a fitted black t-shirt, a pristine white apron tied securely around his narrow waist. His large, calloused hands—hands that could command absolute obedience with a single gesture—were currently meticulously dicing a shallot with a terrifyingly sharp chef’s knife.

Maria handed me a knife, demonstrating with sharp, efficient movements. “Like this. Small slices, even. Don’t rush.” I nodded, mimicking her motions. My cuts weren’t as neat as hers and the pieces came out uneven but at least they resembled food instead of disasters. Ana leaned on the counter, chin resting on her hand as she watched me. “You really like him, don’t you?” My hand stilled mid-cut. “What?” “You do,” she said, eyes glinting mischievously. “We’ve been here for years and the Master never smiles. Never, except now. Except when you’re around.”

As for why Kayson would appear here suddenly, he guessed that Damian had simply missed Kayson. Three powerful masters appeared on Kayson’s left, right, and back at the same time. One of them asked with a smile, “Who’s doing it?” The relatively younger master said, “I’ll do it.” It was apparent that they gave Kayson no regard. “Okay.” The other two masters did not oppose it. The master who volunteered sprang up and attacked with a knife chop. Kayson, who felt the rather solid strength, was slightly surprised. “Thunderpalm?”

The two of us walked into the room with the white door at the end of the hall, The master's room. "Please, Come in." "Thanks." I pulled the doorknob and went inside. A man in a plain white shirt seemed to be busy fiddling with something. His hands cleverly united the various objects on his desk into a long-range rifle. Then, he put down the gun and turned to look at me. I lowered my head to salute our leader. "Can I see your sword?" "Yes, sir." I took out the red velvet cloth that wrapped the blade in a bound position. I gave the sword to the man in front of me. The master accepted it. Then, the handsome man untied the cloth. His forehead frowned slightly as he saw the sword break into two-p