Mimicry Sword Novels & Stories

Simon deftly dodged Thea’s attack and reappeared in the distance. He wore a solemn expression as he continued to channel more energy into his sword technique. The Frost Sword hovered in front of him, and the tip of its blade pointed toward Thea. It spun in the air as if it were a drill. As it rotated, the surrounding air was drawn in and coalesced to form sharp shards of ice. The shards rapidly gathered and formed Ice Swords. Soon, hundreds of Ice Swords levitated in the air in front of Simon.

He no longer knew right from wrong, and worst of all, his one bite could make another just as mad as him. “Beasty, I would like that weapon now.” Sure, my precious master. Just channel me through your magic. I did as I was told and channelled Ambisose through my magic. A sword appeared in my mindscape—a deadly beauty in sight. Three feet long, basket-hilted with sapphires and emeralds on its hilt, a schiavona sword with sharp double-edged blades which had the deadly aura, but somehow it felt safe to me. I reached out to hold its hilt. A flash filled my mindscape, and everything went white as soon as I held the sword in my hand. I didn't even realise that I had completely shifted into my mind

In their hands was an ax with two pointed edges. "Do something to them if you want to bring that human alive." Minos looked at me with a meaningful gaze. I smiled mockingly. "Don't be sorry after this." In an instant I swung my arm, and my black cloak parted as the sword reappeared in my hand. Of course, the sword is silver.

Blend in, keep your head down, and move on before anyone gets too close. As she walked down the bustling hallway, murmurs and whispers followed her. She was used to it. She didn't just blend in. She found her locker and fumbled with the combination, her hands trembling slightly. As she opened it, she caught a glimpse of herself in the small mirror inside. Her long, curly silver hair cascaded down her back like molten moonlight, shimmering with an otherworldly glow. It was the kind of hair that defied explanation, the kind that drew eyes and sparked curiosity exactly what she didn't need.

The sword pulled free from the stone as if it had been waiting just for her. A burst of wind rippled from the sword knocking dust and ash into the air. The blade shimmered, glowing silver and blue. It looked alive in her hands. Melissa’s eyes widened in shock. “It... listens to you,” she whispered. April lifted the sword with both hands.“You don’t deserve this sword, Melissa. You never did.” Melissa’s lips twisted. “Then I’ll rip it from your cold hands!” She shot forward, her claws already ready to attack April. I lunged toward her, but April beat me to it.

He wasn't erratic and perhaps I'd never see him be that way. "You see, this is the best way. You choose, give me Valiant and give me Regal. You are free to go on your own or I can assist in making you go with a hollow point." "Fat fucking chance...just stop with the veiled threats and demands. Show yourself." I heard him say while I watched from a safer distance. The truth is that while he stood there looking like a model in his fancy tailored suit, he was so skilled with any weapon in his hand. He hadn't earned his nickname for no reason. Claymore, that shit would be a testimony to his calloused conscience.

Vailan looked at them and glared, saying to Lixien, “Empress, I have heard what happened. Are you hurt somewhere?” Lixien turned her head to him and shook his head firmly. “No, I am fine. It was just that we found out that it was an impersonation of a sword.” “… A sword? What do you mean? How can a sword be transformed into a human- a living existence?” He approached Lixien, and looked at her, confused and irritated.

Like there is spell written in his forehead, and one of the victims in her. As he opened it, their eyes locked up. The mixed emotions pouring inside, like a tidal wave hitting every part of their vitals and can’t do anything but felt overwhelmed. He puts his two fingers in front of her, “open your mouth, babe.” He commands with gently voice, like he’s talking to vulnerable thing and afraid to break it. And like an obediently kid, she gradually opened her dry lips letting those fingers touch the inside of her mouth. “Play it with your tongue until it’s perfectly wet.”

Sir William, who was on the edge of the abyss, was staggering, and could scarcely have the strength to hold the shield, which slid across his chest, yet those on the edge cried out to be the same William of old again, and these words seemed to enchanted, coming from the throats of the comrades who wanted to see him again the same swordsman worthy of the knightly girdle, immediately the sharpest eye would have seen a murmur of encouragement floating on William's lips, and a fierce light in his eyes, which aimed his eyes d'Ampezzo who avoided their way. At the first touch of the swords, William retaliated briskly, and the spectators began to murmur quietly about the new champion, at the second

It twisted, faster than anything should move, and its face split open to reveal rows of teeth like broken glass. I dodged left. Marcus came in from the right, his sword taking the thing's arm off at the elbow. Black ichor sprayed across the desk. The Mimic lunged at me, all pretense of humanity gone. I caught it with my blade through what passed for its throat and pinned it against the wall. It thrashed for maybe ten seconds. Then went still. My tattoo pulsed. +25 credits. Class D Mimic eliminated. Twenty-five credits. For almost dying.