My Body Is Made Of Swords Novels & Stories

My voice turns out softer. Sexy tousled hair, eyes as stormy as a haboob in the hot desert; Red takes a small, nonchalant stride toward me. His chest—oh his chest is so naked, sinew lines of muscles and those damn six packs so well placed on its grand display. What a sight. I gulp again.

"They feel quite light..." I grip the white sword in my right hand and the black sword in my left. They fit well and feel comfortable in my hands. When I swing them, they don't feel heavy at all, despite their large size. The swords are shiny and appear to be quite valuable. They have two blade edges on each side and taper to a point on the sides, rather than being centered like regular swords. They have a good visual appeal, and I'm grateful for them. However, I can't help but wonder why there is no sheath for them, and I have no idea what material they're made of. If it were a fictional metal, it might be something like mithril, adamantium, or orichalcum.

Wounds of Eryndor troops that would have been mortal mere hours before began to miraculously heal, as if the warriors' bodies were fueled by a bright, ancient power. The Eryndor troops’ warriors, though battered and bruised, arose anew, their eyes blazing with a fierce determination. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and sweat, but the fighters pressed on, undeterred. However, those who had suffered the deadly precision of daggers and spears to the heart lay motionless, their lives extinguished by the fatal blows. The distinction was stark: wounds could be healed, but hearts pierced by the sacred weapons would not be revived.

When Jacket was providing cover for him, Jim had already started forming a mystic technique, channeling all his spiritual power into the blade. In a moment, Jim's sword underwent a bizarre transformation. The entire long blade was now fiery red, flames engulfing it. The flames resembled lava, continuously dripping from the blade like flowing blood. Jim's momentum drastically changed; he looked like a Shura returned from hell. He stared fixedly at Sebastian, the flames on the blade reflecting in his pupils. For a moment, he truly seemed like a Shura returned from the abyss. "I'll take your life, in memory of my brother!"

Leonardo countered as he sat down on the floor casually. "According to records, both swords are one, and they have the same body but different appearance and personality. Which means the sealed sword is nonexistent, and both of you are here at the moment. However, I am not sure how this city has not been engulfed in miasma yet," Leonardo mused as he stared directly at the floating sword hilt.

I gasped, panic clawing at my throat. "The sword recognizes its master," he said. "This is the body of the goddess Athena, and your soul now resides within it." His words felt like a blow. A goddess? A sword? Another body? None of this made sense. I reached for the sword again, determined to prove—or disprove—whatever they believed about me. This time, my fingers closed around the hilt. A wave of energy coursed through me, not as jarring as before but no less powerful.

It smelled of damp stone, old hay, and solitude. Makil was already there, warming up with a series of fluid stretches that further betrayed his training. He wore similar clothes to yesterday, and two practice longswords were thrust into the ground at the center of the yard. Leigh arrived silently, a shadow detaching from the deeper shadows of the archway. She'd re-braided her hair tightly. She said nothing, simply walked to the center, pulled one sword from the earth, and tested its weight. "No rules," Makil said, pulling the other. "First to yield, or be disarmed."

Then taso uses his killing intent. If that's what you want you have challenged a god, COME FORTH! THE SWORD THAT CAN SLICE THROUGH SPACE AND TIME, HOLD SWORD DURANDAL! Then the holy sword Durandal comes pops out of thin air and then taso grabs the sword, and he uses a technique. AEROBA RENAKATA RO NAKATA DANCING SUN SLASH! Then the sword Durandal was burning fire in every structure of the sword, it was like the color of the sun.

Legacy 5.5 *** Once my eyes grew used to the blue light, the source loomed large despite its size: a sword on the bench. There was no stand, no sheath, nothing: just a piece of steel, forged into a blade that was a bit longer than my forearm, with the hilt and guard sporting a very simple design. The simplicity of its design stood in stark contrast to the fact that it was glowing with a blue light. I also put an answer to the question that had been bothering me for a couple of days: the blue light from this sword had the same hue as the light that I was apparently using in the final round of the tournament – the kind of light that drove away the darkness surrounding my opponent.

She couldn't even lift it by her waist. “My sword, I got in a village far across the ocean, it's made of iron specially forged by a skilled blacksmith…he smeared it with wild boar's blood and soaked it in palm wine. My sword is coated in a special metallic coating that makes it unbreakable. The sword is also decorated with precious stones that you have never seen before. The first lesson…raise the sword! Try again!" Randu did so, her hands shaking as she tried to lift it again, this time she is only able to lift it to her thigh.