Muramasa Blade Marvel Novels & Stories

“What is this!” A rather booming voice shouted as Tamara hit the floor. She was able to concentrate a bit more from the intense shock she just received from the blade. The blade had a consciousness to it, and with all the objects she’d ever worked with, this was a first to feel that it was alive. She got the sense that it liked her, it liked what she did. So it chose her over Surt whom it was made for. Her head was pounding a bit with the knowledge that passed into her from the blade.

Luntian walked closer and closer until she was in front of the Mayari Tabbu once again. “Mayari Tabbu, with you I entrust this blade…” She said, “...a Black Blade that remains unknown to how its made.” She handed over the blade that’s covered with a thick wool. “The village Shaman from where Accashia was born kept it hidden. And she used this blade to try to remove the mark from where Accashia was bitten.”

Amy. “The blade was crafted based on your temperament. It is called Moonblade because you are the queen and a werewolf, but the craftsman said something about being special.” He said, and we both looked at the knife. It is special! I can feel the surge of power coming from the knife, but hearing it myself is another matter. “As much as I am unsure of what he meant, I trust him. Your energy dictates the knife. You can use it to the fullest, or you can use it as a last resort. It is your choice.” He added, and I looked at his face immediately.

Monolith’s death—guard her, kill! Mara moved right, cropped black hair glinting under a hood, brown eyes fierce, dagger drawn, its blade gleaming, palm scar raw but steady. Her leather tunic was slashed, arm bandage tight, guilt over Milo fueling her rage, Jasper’s warmth her root, Sam’s trust her blade. The iron scent choked her, runes’ hum a taunt, the monolith a target. Ember, her wolf, growled, fiery, tail lashing. She’s pack, Mara. Blood binds—cut, guard!

Marisa muttered again in fear. Her contemplation was abruptly interrupted as the door swung open without warning, startling Marisa. "Fuck!" she cursed, turning to face the intruder. It was Blade, wearing a fierce expression that immediately conveyed she wasn't one to be trifled with. "Hey," Marisa greeted with a forced smile, keenly aware of Blade's no-nonsense demeanor. She understood the importance of avoiding trouble, especially in a place teeming with mobsters. "Who are you?" Blade inquired with a cold tone as she approached Marisa.

KAI’S POV The blade screamed before it struck. Not audibly, not to the room, but to something older inside me. The wards under my skin detonated into heat as the air split, and instinct tore control from thought. “Zara!” Too late. The blade wasn’t metal. It looked like obsidian glass, curved and narrow, veins of silver light pulsing through it like a heartbeat. It emerged from nowhere, no summoning circle, no warning glyph, just there, sliding out of empty space and into flesh.

Malachar said calmly, "and your packs will be spared. Refuse, and you will share the fate of all who shelter the abomination called Amara Kings." "What fate is that?" Alpha Thompson asked. Malachar smiled, and it was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen. "Complete annihilation." He picked up one of the guns from the box. It was a metal sword that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. "These blades were forged in the old times," he stated. "They can kill any werewolf, no matter how strong. Even one with powers that shouldn't exist." My heart stopped. He was talking about Amara.

“Go!“ she commanded, her voice ringing with the authority of a Luna. “The baby is the anchor. She’s recognized the threat before you did. She has already claimed the blade's protection. It won't reject you now… not if you're holding it to protect her.“ Malcolm hesitated for a heartbeat before bolting out of the room. We heard his heavy footsteps thundering down the hallway, followed by the distant clatter of the display case being thrown open. A moment later, he was back. In his hand, he held the Silver Vow. This time, there was no sizzling of flesh. No smell of burning skin. His knuckles weren't white with pain; they were steady. The blade was humming, a low, melodic vibration that seemed t

"I didn't think the command would manifest yet." "The blade Joanna." "If I give it to you what do I get?" "You get to leave this chamber with your spine intact." She laughed, actually laughed, and it almost sounded genuine. "Fair enough." She held the counter blade out through the light wall and I took it, the metal was cold and the glow was a pale blue that felt clean where the green had felt sick. I went back to Mom and pressed it to the wound and blue light spread across her skin chasing the green back and she exhaled, a long shaking breath that sounded like relief.

If Michelle had that look on her face then it meant that Valerie was going to be alright. "She is going to be alright, isn't it?" I asked and she huffed loudly. "It is not a silver blade…" she paused and narrowed her eyes at Valerie. I sighed in relief. Perhaps, it was just a mere blade. "It is an ancient sword, crafted with magic and silver. The only kind of sword that can kill Lycans as powerful as you," she said and my heart constricted for a moment. "The last silver blade of the ancients?" The Pack's doctor asked and Michelle nodded. My eyes widened as I flickered my eyes toward Valerie's fading skin, dismay hitting me.