My Body Is Made Of Swords นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Boro and Mika stood in the sand circle as the two finalists. The animosity between the two was so thick in the air it was almost palpable. Boro stood in the ready form, Crane In The Water, standing perfectly balanced on one leg, his sword held out before him. Mika stood in a form that Boro didn't recognize. Boro prided himself on knowing all the forms of classical, and modern, sword art, the fact he didn't recognize this one was puzzling.

Each dragon only had one inverse bone in their bodies, which was the essence of their bones. And this sword on display was made from a random piece of bone. Not to mention, there weren't any ancient runes that made up any formations on the sword. This kind of thing, the gods would clearly not want it! “One million two hundred thousand!” “One million five hundred thousand!”

Ancient armor adorns their bodies, the armor looking to be made out of pure gold. At the front of the army stands a lone warrior carrying twin sickles in his hands, with a pair of sai weapons made out of gold strapped at his waist that look like mini pitchforks. His body is covered head to toe with armor, a mummy’s wrapping wrapped around his shoulders like a shawl an old woman would use to keep warm.

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

After a dozen exploding sounds, Cancer was thrown backward more than ten meters away, his broad sword was covered with cracks, and his arm trembled slightly. He was overwhelmed by shock. Made of special compound metal mixed with aerosiderite, the broad sword was very hard and even armor-piercing bullet could not pierce it. However, the sword now was covered with cracks after being punched. He looked up at Chu Xun. However, what he saw made him feel as if he were in hell, and his face turned pale instantly. He saw that all his men died. During the time he was thrown backward over a dozen meters, Chu Xun killed all his teammates.

I know I have my unique skills and personality traits, but I never thought I stood out so much. Brian is making me think I am special though. And I guess it's just the fact that we're mates. Mates are supposed to make each other feel special. That's what we were built for. That's what we were born for. We were made for each other, so it makes sense. Still, it's rather nicer than I expected. “It can't be that much different than anyone else,” I say. “Maybe lots of people just learn how to use swords quickly. Maybe in the heat of the moment, you have to.

Freya said and I laughed. We roared in laughter and sighed. After finishing breakfast, Freya exited my room. I gawked at my sword for a while and I recalled fond memories. I remembered when my father first gave me this sword and I couldn't lift it up at that time. I was quite upset about it but he encouraged me. This sword was made by one of the best blacksmiths in our pack. The metal was one of the strongest ever used, it was unbreakable. It could also kill any immortal alive, be it vampire, nephilim or any supernatural being.

the old man said when we entered the armory to get the weapons available. He walked to a section of a cupboard and got out a long cardboard box which he opened to reveal two swords with razor sharp edges. The blades were sharp enough to cut through anything with ease. “I had the scientists make this for you,” he said. “It can slice through your enemies with ease and they will have no choice but to retreat.” I held the swords and waved them around to see how it worked. It was light and didn’t feel like it weighed a ton unlike my former blade.

In the depths of night, a young boy stood frozen, his body trembling violently. His gaze refused to leave the lifeless corpse before him, its back drenched in blood from a blade that had pierced through. “I-I… I killed him,” he whispered, his knees giving way as he collapsed to the ground. Shock also gripped the young man pinned beneath the corpse. His eyes widened at the sight of his own sword, once taken by the enemy, now lodged in the bald man’s back.

I pulled that feeling out of my soul and shaped it. The light in the street responded. It gathered around my hands, growing thicker and colder. It turned into a sword. It was not made of metal. It was made of pure, hard-won experience. I stood up. The sword felt perfect in my hand. The figures were on top of us. I did not think. I swung. The blade cut through the leader’s chest, and instead of static, he let out a sharp, jagged cry. It was a real, raw sound of fear.