Noble's Slender Sword Farming Novels & Stories

He was a cruel man, but he hadn’t known he would stoop so low to burn human villages to the ground, much less potentially killing his future mate. “Everyone thought he had come to take me so I could be mated with his son and they were terrified. I was terrified, but I needed to do something. Before I was born, my father was famous in the Midlands for being a dragon slayer. After an illness ravaged his body, leaving him to slowly die, he left me his sword. The sword was his most prized possession.” She straightened slightly as she reached for her sword, taking it out of its sheath, an intricately detailed wolf sewn into the leather. She held the sword on the palms of her hands across her lap,

What was two hours of sluggish movement seemed a lifetime of a manakan mountain sloth’s mating dance while Kilvic was forced to employ the art of imitation as he mirrored his mates. What they were being taught was the art of the sword of the kingdom of Zeldric. It was slow. It was precise. It was often fumbled, patterned to fall within the diameter of two steps on all sides. It was an art form by which swordmages of the realm defended themselves and drew blood from their foes. Ultimately? It was boring.

“I’m sorry, Alpha, but you made the rules. A slave must be punished by the soldier she wronged, however he sees fit.” Fine. If he could not be reasoned with. “You can have her,” I said, and watched his chest fill with an immediate, fat satisfaction. He reached for her as if the moment were a proof of his worth. Her lips thinned, and I watched her bite the inside of her mouth, ready to beg. “I didn’t mean—” Do not beg, I thought, and the reflex made my mouth curve. Lust cursed me. Damn the goddess. That was when I moved. I let Gareth see the motion of my hand as I took Eris’s sword from its scabbard, a show of intent, a punctuation. I do not send metal unless I have decided a throat should op

By the third day, my throne room became a council hall. The elven grain barons came first, asking how to expand their stores beyond wheat and moon-grain. I suggested farming corn—known as maize in the New Realm—explaining its versatility. Cornmeal. Flour. Bread that could feed an entire army at half the magic cost. We established new fields on floating islands lower in altitude where the soil was richer. Then came the weapon forgers. The blacksmith guild, led by a tall dwarf named Garren Stoneback, brought me swords etched with minor enchantments. Beautiful—but basic.

My fingers are on my chin as I crouched and looked at it. The cover or the sheath was silver with a few pints of gold, I don't understand the engravings etched on it. Because of my curiosity, I held it and released it from its sheath. Unlike other sword, its blade was bluish and silver, the handle was wood in color and the cover was glass. It was not as heavy as it look. I lifted it up and swayed it... Imagining I was a samurai fighting some bad guys. I chuckled.

He hooked her below her guard several times, almost suffocating her with his shadow, and he knew she had to weaken. He snuck the golden sword from his sleeve, the sword that killed his brother and the maker. The golden sword of the gods who was made from the Shrub of Nod, the tree of life, and dipped in with their blood. He thrashed it at her with a force that no power on land could avoid, and his smile of accomplishment froze as she snatched the sword as if it were a plaything thrown by a babe.

He hooked her below her guard several times, almost suffocating her with his shadow, and he knew she had to weaken. He snuck the golden sword from his sleeve, the sword that killed his brother and his queen. The golden sword of the gods who was made from the Shrub of Nod, the tree of life, and dipped in with their blood. He thrashed it at her with a force that no power on land could avoid, and his smile of accomplishment froze as she snatched the sword as if it were a plaything thrown by a babe.

Lixue practiced swordsmanship in her backyard, her movements were as beautiful as a butterfly. His attack was so fast and sharp, like a bee attacking. She was so focused on practicing, Lixue didn't notice that Fang Xue was looking at her with a smile. his movements then suddenly grew faster and more nimble. He then let out his last slash into the air strong enough, from that slash to make the snow that filled the yard managed to move away. Piles of snow that every day always splattered cover the ground behind his house until it disappeared. Fang Xue smiled with satisfaction seeing her daughter's development which was getting more significant by the day.

They could not hide their admiration and ingratiation toward him. The Famed Sword Manor had been around for a few thousand years. They had forged many Violet category weapons, but they could usually only make one every 100 years. However, it seemed like they had made three in a mere ten years. The crowd tried their best to please Jacob. If they could have a good relationship with the Famed Sword Manor, they would not have to worry about having good weapons in the future. Jacob smiled happily; he was extremely pleased. When the Sword Conference ended that day, the Famed Sword Manor's reputation would definitely grow tremendously in the world of cultivators. It would bring much pride to their

Eryndor's Shadowing dagger seemed to dance in the moonlight, its dark blade slicing through the air with a haunting screee-ksss. Each strike landed with a thud-thwack-thoom, sending tremors through the troop's warriors. The troop's hearts raced as the violent zing-ting-zap of clashing daggers filled the field. The savages of warriors, fueled by fury and loyalty, clashed in a frenzy of arms and teeth. The ground grew slick with blood, the earthy smell mingling with the metallic tang of steel. Jack Wolf stood firm, his Moon-whisper spear shining with a soft, ethereal light. He parried Eryndor's strikes with a precision born of desperation, his movements a blur of speed and strength.