Muramasa Blades Novels & Stories

All he could do now was sit and wait for Kirou to finish the assembly. Like that, another ten minutes passed. When Kirou's hands finally stopped moving, assembled on the table were two unique shaped bladed weapons. If any martial art fanatic from the real world was present, they would recognize that the assembled weapons looked similar to single bladed tonfas. The difference was that barrel holding the blades was a bit wider and more reinforced.

Her hand disappears into the space, and when it comes back, it’s holding steel. One knife. Then another. Then another. She draws them out carefully, laying them on the stone floor like offerings to a truth that can no longer be hidden. Five blades in total. Two small. One large. One curved. One straight. All sharpened to a whisper. The room seems to tilt, the air thinning until each breath feels earned. Mara stands slowly, one knife still in her hand. She doesn’t brandish it. She doesn’t step back. She just looks at me worried.

The surrogate mask is heavy, but it's the only armor I have left. My fingers graze the back of my neck—the thin, raised line of scar tissue across my throat, and just above it, tucked into the coil of my hair, the Phantom Blade. A titanium needle, no thicker than a wire, its tip ground to a point that could part skin before a man could register the cold. As long as it's there, I am not a victim. I am a weapon with the safety still on. "Ms. Moore? This way."

"Went spelunking through my mother's death without permission." Sage winced. "Okay, we'll... table that discussion for later. Right now, if Kira's right, and I suspect she is, we have a much bigger problem." They pulled out an ancient-looking text, its pages yellowed and brittle. "I've been researching ceremonial weapons used in pack rituals. Twin blades are extremely rare. They're forged specifically for large-scale blood magic." "How large-scale?" I asked.

Runes ran along the hilt—half flame, half crescent—and the metal pulsed like it was alive. Racheal stepped closer. The blade sang to her blood. “You feel it, don’t you?” Myra whispered. “It was made for you.” Racheal reached out, fingers hovering over the hilt. “What is it?” Myra exhaled slowly. “It’s called Ashweaver. A soulbound blade. Forged at the end of the Flame Wars by a rogue godsmith. It can kill a vessel of divine blood… but only if wielded by one who shares that blood.”

“Oh, Seraphim’s blade. I’d never seen this in a long long time. Seraph Blade killed many of my people. Where did you get it, my dear?” “Not telling you anything.” He looked at Lucius. “Is this the same blade given to you by your father-in-law?” What was he talking about? I watched Ryden shift and divert his gaze away, looking hurt. “I wish, but that’s what killed her. Mine is safe somewhere.” Wait. What? He has a sword just like mine? “But this blade also shapes according to the wielder. Am I right? And it’s Katana for her. She must have been trained by a great sensei.”

Nobody did a free job anymore because everything was a business. “Just like how you wanted them to be.” He gestured to the two black briefcases on the crates. In the first briefcase were dual short swords made of pure silver. It had a long line of engraved words “There was no victory without sacrifices” on the blade. She tested the short swords with several movements. The balance was just right for her. Everything on the swords is just like how she requested it to be. Her signature red gem on the hilt. Mira set down the swords back into the briefcase before reaching the next briefcase. A set of six hunting knives.

I pressed against her back and moved her hand to one of my favorite blades. “This is a Poshland RAM-21. The spiral blade is painful because of the spiral wound it creates and definitely makes it much bloodier. They struggle to heal, and if they do somehow manage to heal, they will be left with serious damage from the muscles and nerves,” I said softly into her ear. Brynn tilted her head, carefully running her thumb along the dull part of the blade. She grabbed it and placed it on the table beside us. Then I moved her hand to another one. There was something incredibly hot about this right here, and I was certain that she could feel my rising lust just like I was feeling hers.

she said, "its energy. I can feel it. Whatever it is... it’s not good." A cold chill crept down my spine as I swallowed. "Let me out, Amara," Lucy growled, hovering inside me. "I’ll take that thing out in one blow." I took a deep breath. The growl continued, and Morgana crouched slowly, drawing a pair of silver blades from her boots. I blinked, stunned. "Seriously? Silver blades?" She peered at me in disbelief. "Don’t tell me you didn’t bring any weapons?" I stared back at her, dumbfounded.

"May I see it?" Elric hesitated. Then he held it out. Vera examined the blade without touching it. Her eyes traced the runes carved into the steel. "These markings are Moonborn script. This blade is least three hundred years old " she said. She looked at Elric. "Where did your mother get this?" "I don't know " Elric said. "Its been in her family for generations." "Then your mothers family has blood " Vera said. "These weapons can only be forged by Moonborn. Wielded by those who carry the bloodline. Even diluted, even hidden for centuries the blood calls to the blade."