Muramasa Blades Novels & Stories

“For our leader.” Alex exhales slowly. “I didn’t ask to—” “We know,” Eve says. “That’s why they’re yours.” Mazikene unwraps the cloth. The blades catch the early light immediately. They’re a matched pair—slightly curved, long enough to demand respect but not so heavy they’d slow her. The steel is darkened, patterned subtly, like smoke trapped beneath the surface. The hilts are wrapped in deep red leather, worn in just enough places to suggest they were meant to be held, not displayed.

Goodness. He unearthed his crescent-moon blade with its piercing and slizing edges, but perhaps most important, its blocking points, so when wielded by someone meaning to harm him in case they found his weapon, they'd have to be trained to use it. It was the only weapon Iga, an old ninja city, still manufactured. He did it slowly, a warning for her to either run or make the first move. 'Yeah, right.' His wolf snorted. 'What! I could be chivalrous.' He then aimed the blade where she was supposedly hiding.

Blood darkens his fur. He doesn’t make a sound. The cut doesn’t slow him. I duck under a snapping jaw and roll, coming up on one knee with my second blade already up. I strike again. Deeper. Cleaner. This is familiar. The burn in my arms. The narrowing of my vision. The way the rest of the world drops out when my body remembers what it’s for.

Forged in the heart of an ancient volcano of our Ironclaw Pack, the blade gleamed with a dark, tempered steel that bore the faintest streaks of crimson—rumoured to be infused with the blood of fallen warriors, forever binding their strength to the sword’s edge. It was no ordinary weapon; it was a legacy, a symbol of his might and spirit. The blade itself was massive yet perfectly balanced, its surface etched with intricate tribal runes that pulsed faintly when wielded in battle. Some claimed these inscriptions carried the whispers of ancestors, guiding its wielder’s strikes with supernatural precision. The fuller of the blade, a deep channel running through its length, was said to sing with

By the Holy Seven Martial Goddesses of the Host, no matter how many times I would later rewind that memory, I didn't know how she did it. My savior knew precisely where the leftmost combatant was. He expertly spun to face her, ready to parry and counterstrike. Her blade was...a...the bastard offspring of a Claymore and Dao - the other Chinese white meat - I meant the other traditional steel sword design of China. At first glance I thought that heavy SOB would be impossible to wield effectively in a sword fight.

Shame this was evening happening to me. Unfortunatly, Damon moved to stand beside Ethan. “These are Twisted Blade push daggers. A tri-edge blade that spirals. Also known as a cyclone blade. They insure maximum damage with little effort. When used correctly, it will increase our killing effectiveness by 10%. Your opposite will bleed out before their wolf will be able to heal them.”

“What will you choose?” I walk along the wall, knowing exactly what I’m after, and proceed to take a katana down from the wall. Traditionally, katanas are forged using Tamahagane, but this particular sword is forged using bloodstone, a specific gemstone that upon contact, can weaken any sanguidae. It’s also the only substance that can kill them. To successfully kill a sanguidae one must cut out their heart using bloodstone, as it stops the heart from regenerating.

All types of specially made knives were displayed and arranged perfectly before him, from fixation Bowies, authentic katanas, bolos, Gerber, and. Ah, this one. He slowly raised his glinting Obsidian knives. The thinnest blades one could ever find were three nanometres wide at the edge – 10 times sharper than a razor blade. These were made by flaking a long, thin sliver from a core of the volcanic glass. This was perfect! "Prepare him." He instructed without turning his head, knowing his men will know what to do. He critically examined each piece to make sure it will work on the flesh like butter.

A bluish metallic luster emanated from it. Everybody pulled out their weapons too. Wolf had two silver daggers in his hand, Remy pulled the string of her bow and Lin summoned his Soul-Armas out of thin air. Roy came in front of Mira with Axe type Soul - Armas as she was not in a state to fight. ~grrrrhhhh ~grrrrrhhhh "Fuck!" Remy looked at the two beasts moving into the shadows. "There are two of them!!"

Their target was to massacre two hundred orange slimes, and Zen prayed it wouldn’t take longer than killing a thousand green slimes. To test the number of hits it would take to kill one orange slime, Zen lured one over and sent the rest to Remi’s way. The short sword in his hands steadied as Zen pulled all his focus into the blade’s tip. Stabbing was more effective than slashing to pierce through armour. He learned this from Claymore, and if stabbing one did not work, stabbing at the same spot multiple times will guarantee a breakthrough.