Nico Sword นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"You want something to drink?" "Water," Nico said too fast. "Cold, please." Lucas opened the fridge and passed him a bottle. Nico took it, his fingers brushing Lucas’s. He nearly dropped it. Lucas sat across from him, watching. "I haven’t heard from Vincenzo either," he said. "Believe me. If I had, you would know." Nico nodded. Then stood up, pacing a little. "I just... hate not knowing. Noel’s not just some guy. He’s... he’s my person."

“Stay back or off with your head. I have been told I am not really useless with a sword.” For a moment Nico looks dumbstruck. Then he laughs, alongside the guards who seem to find everything funny. When he is done laughing he brings his attention back to us. He raises his hands and in a blink of an eye the guards raise up their bows and poison coated arrows, pointing it at us. Ready to shoot at command. “I was going to give you a merciful death, Katniss.” “I don’t need your mercy,” Katniss says, unwavering in her stance. The sword firmly pointed towards Nico. “You lots never gave me that at the academy, so do not act as though granting me mercy at death is noble of you.”

When he sits up, panting with the effort of his shift, I gasp, and I’m not the only one. Iniko looks nothing like the small man he was in his first life. Now, he looks large and muscular, someone who could rival Ancalagon in size and strength. I watch as Iniko closes his eyes and takes a deep breath of air, then he looks right at me. “Mate!” I turn and look behind me, certain he’s looking at someone else. Everyone behind me is staring at me. Holy shit! Iniko just called me his mate.

He reached out and tapped the map, selecting the "Admiring Immortals State." In the instrument cultivator profession, he chose the most popular sub-profession: sword cultivator! Sword cultivators had the highest single-target damage, making them the most suitable for one-on-one combat and soloing bosses. Sebastian aimed to become the world's number one, which meant he would inevitably face numerous challenges in the future, including open confrontations, covert attacks, assassinations, and more.

He looked at Lixien and touched his silky hair. “Your Majesty, do you need to poison this humble servant of yours?” Lixien giggled and sat on her seat again, near the man. “How amusing. A sword… can be a man. What’s your story, Mr. sword?” Mr. Sword closed his fan. He wasn’t shocked to know that she already knew his identity and shook the fan in front of her. “Why would I say that to you? Oh, and by the way… give me the antidote otherwise, I’ll perish.”

Enzo was very obsessed with motorcycles, I even gifted him one on his birthday years ago, yamaha vmax! Nico narrowed his eyes, but wasn’t surprised as much as I imagined he’d be. “You know how to shoot, you survived easily even after everything you’ve witnessed in this miserable place, and now this? Are you sure you’re not The Butcher?” His tone was playful, but his face was serious. The mention of my father’s name had me looking down for a few moments, but somehow I decided to ignore his comment as soon as I felt he regretted saying the words.

I had just finished fighting one of the attackers who had proven to be a really good fighter and —despite the number of times my sword had made contact with his body refused to give up until I had chopped off his head— when I felt a cold steel in my neck. And I sensed his presence but it was too late. He was already upon me. "I did not think you would come out to fight my Prince. I have to say I am proud..." Nico said in my ear as he held his sword to my neck.

This teacher had massacred and killed one of his family, because he had been framed by the elders in that place. because of the extraordinary talent he has shown, it scares everyone and they end up trapping Khalid. Khalid his name is Khalid the son of the fiftieth generation swordsman who saves the world.

Heat built between them like a gathering storm until they shattered together, her body arching as waves of release claimed them both. When the storm finally broke, the air between them was a ruin of breath and sweat and heartbeat. The quiet that followed wasn’t peace—it was aftermath. Nico reached for the side table, took his sidearm from its holster, and laid it down carefully on the wood. He stared at it for a long second before meeting her eyes. “I’m not touching your father,” he said, voice raw. “Or Mazzo. Not without your word. I gave you my vow once, and I’ll keep it.”

The two fighters were yanked apart, their bruised and bloodied bodies glistening under the harsh lights as they stumbled back. Shouts and grunts of disappointment swept through the crowd. Nico snapped his fingers. Two men appeared out of the shadows, their massive forms looming like mountains. “Nico, what is this?” she asked, keeping her voice level. She didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Just a little initiation,” Nico replied, his smile never reaching his eyes. “We need to know you can handle yourself. Otherwise, you’re just dead weight.” He nodded to his men. “Get her in the ring.”