Obsidian Blade Surgery Novels & Stories

Samson said. He puts his phone on loud speaker and dropped it on the table to have a feel of the Night blade. Samson stood up and he unsheathed the sword right in front of Alicia who gulped. The handle of the long sword was a wooden-medieval gold cabinet but the blade was stark and stoic. It could cut through any metal, alloid or repel steel attacks plus the enchantments being installed made the sword more distopic.. "Boss, the Night blade should be installed into one of the mechanincal bots being structured here at Boneridge."

“The prophecy was never meant to allow both paths. The pact was broken long before you ever touched her soul. And now the magic bleeds.” I stared at them all, heart hammering. “There has to be another way.” “There is. But it demands blood.” Of course it did. They extended a skeletal hand, conjuring a small platform of starlight. Upon it lay a blade I had only heard of in whispered legends—the Moonshard Blade. A curved weapon made entirely from obsidian crystal, yet pulsing like it was alive. Veins of silver light moved across its edges like breath. I didn’t touch it.

Hearing their quiet praise, Selina quietly wiped the sweat from her forehead and stepped back, making room for the surgery to continue. "The bleeding has stopped. Please proceed with the urgent surgery," Selina said, still composed. The surgeon, his previous arrogance gone, nodded at Selina: "Are there any precautions we need to take during the surgery?" Selina replied, "Just try not to touch the gold needles. If it's absolutely necessary, please let me know, and I'll come remove them." The surgeon gave an OK sign and continued searching for the source of the bleeding with his assistants. Half an hour later, they finally found fragments of glass that had entered the blood vessels along the w

"It's time." Kael stepped forward. The silver blade was warm in his grip, its light steady. "How do we do this?" Aion met his eyes. "The mirror requires two. The same two who carried the Twin Blades through the war. Your bond is what will make it work." Kael looked at Rhydian. Rhydian nodded once. "Together," Kael said. "Together." They stepped forward together, their hands finding each other. Their fingers intertwined. The mirror responded.

he says. "On what? You refused my offer to let me blow you while you do the surgery." "The pillow, Oliver." "Right." The first touch of the scalpel is a line of pressure, not pain. A thin, cool drag. I don’t feel the blade open the skin. I hear it though. A small, wet parting sound that my brain refuses to reconcile with my own body. My breath catches anyway. "You’re doing good," Kir says. Low and steady. Almost to himself. "Very good."

He checked on her vitals, scribbling notes in the patient’s file. Selena nervously waited for him to say something. He then turned to Cassandra, gently patting her arm, “Hey, you’re good to go but… about your hands… ” She pursed her lips, “Just tell me already. I know the scalpels perforated deep. I’m not expecting much.” “Alright. Let’s start with the left one.” She grimaced, “Good news first then.” He chuckled, “Come on. It’s going to be alright. The blade didn’t hit that deep. It was lodged between the ulna and radius. Tore some ligaments and muscles.”

Her bare hands rested flat against his ribs, her skin humming with a warm, golden afterglow. Slowly, carefully, trying not to disturb him, Vespera shifted her left arm. Her fingers reached down to the floor beside the bed, searching through the torn silk of her ruined dress until her bare tips brushed against something cold, hard, and smooth. She pulled the obsidian needle from the fabric. She lifted the glass blade into the faint amber light of the dying hearth. The narrow needle gleamed quietly, a weapon designed to channel Void magic directly into a magician's heart to cause instant, unhealable cardiac arrest.

“No one else may do it.” I stared down at the obsidian blade. Its edge pulsed. Waiting. And then I pressed the glowing point to my skin. The pain was instant. Sharp. Radiant. Not cutting, but searing. Like lightning drawn into flesh. My knees buckled, but I didn’t fall. The blade carved a single curve into my shoulder—smooth, elegant, echoing the crescent moon sigil I’d seen on the Matron scrolls. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air.

The rise and fall of his chest was getting weaker and weaker. The wolfsbane had already eaten through most of his organs. A few more minutes, and even a werewolf's powerful healing wouldn't be enough to save him. "Prepare for surgery." My voice came out hoarse, but there was no room for doubt in it. I raised my right hand. The scalpel gleamed coldly under the lights. Pain shot through my hand constantly. Every movement felt like tearing through raw nerves, but my gaze stayed razor-focused. My silver wolf's perception was fully active. The black wolfsbane had nowhere to hide in my awareness. I made a precise incision through the skin, avoiding blood vessels and nerves.

We just passed the 12 weeks mark. “Rissa and Gabe will help you practice and get used to it.” I just nodded and pulled the knife from its sheath. It was beautiful in its own deadly way. I didn’t know shit about knives, but I was sure you can kill pretty easily with a blade like this. “The blade is a high density silver alloy, so don’t cut yourself,” Gabriel chimed in. “I won’t.” I gave him an offended look as I put the blade back and closed the box on it.