Oblivion Umbra Sword Novels & Stories

He was not conceited, but it was the truth. "You can try." Dennis grinned and a long sword appeared in his hand. It was Purim that had been in Niall’s hands , Purim, Shadow, and Tyrfing, the three swords all fell in the hands of Babylon. Jason stretched out his palm and Excalibur appeared in it. They looked at each other as if there was lightning flashing. The next moment, two figures collided with each other like lightning. With a burst of sword Qi, a nebula condensed by sword Qi appeared on the top of Babylon

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.

Umbra harnessed the crimson snow, forging a blood-colored spear of ice and hurling it forward. The spear extinguished the blade's energy, shooting toward Draven like a meteor. Draven crushed the spear in his grip, his excitement surging. He leaped forward, charging straight at Umbra. Umbra met him head-on. "Mountain Splitting! Oceanic Cleave!" Draven unleashed two consecutive blade techniques. One was a horizontal strike, and the other was a vertical strike. It formed a cross slash that tore through the air toward her. Umbra clasped her hands together, chanting, "Nova Barrage!"

The sword light of his Storm of Swords spell was nearly snuffed out by now, leaving only his Unsullied Sword to resist the Northern Dark Mystic Ice Sword. Never mind that the Unsullied Sword was ranked beneath the Northern Dark Mystic Ice Sword. The fact that the Spirit of the Northern Dark Mystic Ice Sword was taking part in this battle meant that any resistance by the Unsullied Sword was futile. The blade of the Unsullied Sword was beginning to shake and the white light covering it was gradually dimming under the weight of the Northern Dark Mystic Ice Sword's cyan light.

He already knows what is wrong but he still needs to confirm. He studied the young woman's wounds. There are scratches around her arms and legs. Probably from the dragging by her predators. Jones is a vampire but after years of practicing self-control, he managed to make his senses devoid of any scent. If his guess was true, then this woman's blood wouldn't affect him no matter how addictive her blood is.

They weren’t living men at all. “Elara,” Laura whispered, her grip tightening on the sword. Elara’s voice echoed in her mind, calm and commanding. “The sword you hood belongs to one of the Knights of Albion. It can cut through anything. It is the blade they were buried with, their true weapon. The ones they wield are only their echoes, their illusion.” Laura’s eyes widened. “Then…” “End them. Free them.” She nodded once, her breath sharp in her throat. With Hope still in her arms, Laura charged forward, her boots slipping on the crystal strewn floor. She set Hope down gently behind a glowing shard and raised the sword high.

Maybe I did underestimate him. "Yes. Yes I do." I replied even if I had no idea what I was holding. I'd already suppressed The Harbinger of Doom, totally. "You're meant to melt to ash. You're holding God's sword. You're holding the power of the entire universe in one hand. I'm sorry I underestimated you, the world is yours. I'll go and never return." Lucifer spoke with reverence in his voice and godly fear. It was then I looked at what I held, a black sword, dripping blood, a symbol of a burning bush as its insignia, the Lion and the Lamb on the other side. The sword itself glowed, and I realized that, I held everything, on one hand.

There was no point in arguing tonight. Elsewhere, just beyond Stormsurge territory, Three cloaked figures stood on a flat stone in the center of a mist-covered marsh. Between them, a circle of ancient runes glowed faintly on the stone’s surface, pulsing with dark violet light. “You’re sure she’s here?” one of them asked, his voice deep and gravelly. “The Umbra has returned. I felt it the moment she connected with her Guardian Spirit,” replied another, his eyes briefly glowing. “The blood of the old Umbrawolf has awakened.”

People embraced in utter relief. The shadow of death that had hung over Blood Moon for nearly a year - ever since the Black Marrow Blight began - seemed to lift. It felt like the clouds were finally parting, letting moonlight bathe the land once more. Early the next morning, before the first rays of sunlight pierced the fog, two elite teams of Blood Moon warriors were assembled. One team accompanied Ivyshade members back to their homeland, carrying an official letter sealed with Luna Lyra’s crest. Their true task: to retrieve Sylverleaf, the vital ingredient for Lyra’s suppressant.

On the pavilion floor lay a sword carved with a dragon, and standing on it was the man who had shouted. He stooped slightly, breath ragged; his eyes were bloodshot, bulging as if they might pop from their sockets. Through gritted teeth he thought, 'Xiu Jian is a damned wretch! I can’t even burn his sword!' Indeed, the trembling, furious man was Huang Fu, and the blade beneath his boot was the Sacred Dragon Sword. He had tried to set the sword aflame—yet not only did the flames refuse to take, the fuel he poured seemed to be absorbed and vanished, drying as if swallowed by the metal itself.