Moonlight Sword Novels & Stories

Even though it was late at night, she had no worries for her cousin because werewolves were known to roam at such times, especially when the moon was full. She was about to return to sleep when she noticed a shiny object on the table, resting on a cushion. It was her crown. She sighed as she pondered the responsibilities that will befall her as the new queen of their tribe starting tomorrow. (Flashback) Werewolves were cheerfully celebrating the Queen's 108th birthday in the large yard of her home in the heart of the woodland of Montgomery. Aside from the moonlight, lanterns hung from trees, poles, and banners provided additional illumination to the dark surroundings.

The weapon that lay in the stranger's hand was unlike any forged by mortal steel. It was the Moon Sword, Na’ara’s ancient blade. Its blade shimmered, not with metal, but with condensed moonlight, a soft, silver-white glow that coursed like liquid starlight along its edge. Every movement caused ripples of pale luminescence to trail behind it, as though it cut through reality itself. The sword's core was forged of a rare celestial ore known as Lunaris, and it was translucent, half-solid, half-light, eternally shifting.

Scorching those glossy-worn patterns into a dark, dark red. "Touch my people. I'll sentence him to death myself." Luna looked up at him. The moonlight plated his rough-hewn face half-light, half-shadow. In the shadowed half, she saw the corner of his mouth. Crooked. Already planning how he would strike. She rose. She brushed the crushed dead grass from her hands. The fragments landed on the flagstones. They were scattered by the night wind. Then she reached out. She pulled Rex's greatsword from the soil. It was heavier than she'd imagined. The hilt still held the residual warmth of his hand. She gripped the hilt with both hands. She held the blade horizontal before him.

“The prophecy was never meant to allow both paths. The pact was broken long before you ever touched her soul. And now the magic bleeds.” I stared at them all, heart hammering. “There has to be another way.” “There is. But it demands blood.” Of course it did. They extended a skeletal hand, conjuring a small platform of starlight. Upon it lay a blade I had only heard of in whispered legends—the Moonshard Blade. A curved weapon made entirely from obsidian crystal, yet pulsing like it was alive. Veins of silver light moved across its edges like breath. I didn’t touch it.

And he wasted no time and mounting an attack. “Prideful Sword: Wrath of the Half-Moon” Along with the humming of his swords and the shaking of the cave, the blades in Mane’s hands produced several sword lights which became one to produce a massive sword light that was a long as Silver’s arm yet as thin as a strand of Mane’s hair. Mane’s face grew pale after producing the sword light. It was clear that it took quite a toll to produce such an attack. Wrath of the Half-Moon was the strongest of the Prideful Sword series and was very draining. Added to the fact that it had to be made as big as the Monkey Queen to cause any real damage, it took a lot out of Mane to activate.

Shui Wuhen picked up a long sword emitting a cold light and handed it to Zephyr Khan. "Rumor has it that the Snake King's sword technique isn't weak either. He has a divine sword in his hand. It's called the Moon in Well. It's made of high-quality Darksteel. It should be this one." Tristan Zane nodded and said. "Shui Wuhen... you seem to have gone too far, don't you?" Seeing that Shui Wuhen and the others had stuffed these treasures into their pockets, Chad Skylark, Mu Chenglin, and Leonard Briggs' faces darkened.

The Full Moon tonight looked brighter than I had ever seen before. Standing under the moonlight, I spread out my hands, receiving the warmth and rays that made me feel stronger. The Children of the Moon, people once said about werewolves. Ever since the Dark Ages happened, werewolves adjusted their lifestyles, including everything about transforming and not calling themselves 'Lycans' anymore. When I was enjoying the moonlight, a blood-curling scream was heard from the dark woods behind me. I was frozen for a second, realizing that it was my mother’s voice, screaming for help.

Her feet bent backward. "Cool, I had no idea sisila's looked so ugly. Remind me never to look for a man of your species," Daylen said and tapped his walking stick on the ground and it turned into a sword. The sword glowed with a blue light. "The moonlight sword?" the sisila asked surprised. "Yes. Rest assured that there will be no reincarnation for you when I am done," he said and flipped to the ceiling and attacked her. The sisila defended herself and tried to kill Daylen but she was way too weak.

“You are the key—and the blade. The one who may heal, or the one who may destroy.” Maya’s skin prickled as the water around them shimmered. A pulse of energy rippled outward, and then the voice came—not Sirena’s, not anyone’s, but something ancient that thrummed with power. "When sea meets shadow and moonlight bleeds, A child of three shall rise from need. Wolf of white with eyes of ice, Bound by blood yet torn by vice." Maya’s chest tightened, her wolf stirring restlessly beneath her skin.

Exactly as seen earlier in the castle. The sword. “What does that one do?” I asked, pointing to it. “It drinks blood. For anyone it kills, their blood is stored in the blade. You would try to always have a clothing between you and the hilt” That did not sound more beneficial than fairy dust. “So how useful would it be to protect me?” With only a smile, “very” Time to close the deal. “I have one silver coin” playing with the coins against my fingers. “Make it three and we have a deal”