Novel & Cerita Owari No Seraph Bloody Blade

Her blade flashed and opened his throat in a single sweep and three more followed. “They are not here for you,” she said softly. One ignored the opening at my side and drove toward her instead. Their spacing was wrong and they were drawing me away. Another lunged but Nyxara turned to meet him, and the mark along her collarbone flared beneath torn fabric. The rogue saw it and his blade faltered for a breath, confusion crossing his face. He corrected his aim and I stepped into the strike. Steel entered below my ribs and I caught his wrist before he could withdraw and drove my blade through his throat. He collapsed against me before sliding to the forest floor.

She shook her head in response to Blade’s questioning stare and tightened her lips to show how much she disapproved of it. I was left confused as to why Blade was requiring the old lady’s permission to reveal whatever was bothering him to me. I placed my other hand on our intertwined hands. “Please tell me, I am tired of being left in the dark. You just asked me to trust you and I do, why can’t you trust me?” His eyes met mine again and he leaned down to kiss my palm. “I trust you.” “Then tell me.” The old lady was seething inwards but Blade ignored her. “I have a condition.” He began. “I… I am somehow cursed.”

Not the battle or the casualties or even my own life. I had to reach her. A Nightblade stepped into my path. It was a female with hair like frost and eyes that reflected no light. She moved with the unnatural speed of her kind and her blade sang as it moved toward my throat but I blocked and countered and our weapons met with a shower of sparks. "The Wolf King himself." She smiled and I saw fangs. "Lady Seraphine will be pleased." "You will die here." I drove forward with enhanced strength and felt my blade bite deep into her shoulder. She hissed and retreated but two more Nightblades replaced her.

“No.” Alessio replied softly. “You pretended to.” ⸻ Seraphina quietly turned away. Not because she wanted to leave… But because some reunions deserved privacy. She wiped away her tears before anyone could notice. The Raven did. He smiled faintly. “Some victories…” he murmured, “…don’t belong to warriors.” ⸻ The blue light surrounding the Oath Blade slowly dimmed. The weapon descended gracefully. Stopping between the two brothers. Neither reached for it.

Brand had forgotten what it felt like – the all-consuming need for the blood of his enemies to be spilled on the ground at his feet. Brand shook his head another scream was silenced as he ripped out another throat. The blood dripped from his long snout as he took a breath and looked around him. Leather-clad warriors lay around him, some with eyes open staring at the sky as if looking for the Valkyries coming to take them to Valhalla. Brand snorted. Good luck. He couldn't believe the gods would want any of these followers of a deranged leader in their feasting halls.

right next to me. “What the fuck?!” Despite my words, I immediately drive the heel of my shoe into Liam's eye, channeling all my anger into my attack. I kick away quickly as his claws shoot toward me. The man is in front of Liam in an instant, a silver sword gleaming in his hand. “Pure wolf or not, this will do the trick.” A sword? Since when did he start using a sword? And… Why does his voice sound different? “Bastard. Don’t—” Liam’s words are cut off as the man drives the sword through his heart. The color drains from his eyes as he crumples, lifeless, his body reverting back to his human form.

"Go to Aunt Cleo!" Aqua's heart pounded in her chest as she stumbled towards the door, her legs shaking with fear. She glanced back to see her parents fighting valiantly, their magic clashing with the dark energy of their attackers. Milak's elemental fury and Zara's healing light intertwined in a beautiful yet tragic dance of power and sacrifice. But it wasn't enough. Milak fell first, a blast of dark energy striking him down. Zara's scream of anguish pierced the air as she knelt beside him, her light flickering and fading. The witches closed in, their laughter echoing like a chorus of nightmares.

I couldn’t stop staring, even though I knew it was obvious. “Lucy,” Blake said, his voice low but carrying across the small group. “This is some of the crew.” They nodded, murmured hellos, and I forced a polite, shaky smile. Some were tall, broad, faces marked with tattoos and scars; others looked younger, eager, testing. I could feel their curiosity like heat pressing down on me, and I tensed. One man, a tall guy with a neatly trimmed beard and arms like tree trunks, stepped forward. “Heard about you from Blake. Didn’t expect him to bring someone out here.”

Blood splattered everywhere the once clean white wedding decorations are now stained in red. Eris killed every rogue he sees ruthlessly. He does not care of the metallic smell of blood he is completely blinded by anger. A new group or rogues arrived to the battlefield completely overwhelming them of the uneven numbers. But everyone knew they're going to win because Alpha Eris is with them.

A bloody esophagus hung out as his blood sprayed out in a torrent. "Holy mother..." Persephone rushed towards her room. She needed to get her ancient sword. The one which was given to her by the sorcerer. She kicked open the door and her eyes zeroed in on her weapon, she jumped for it and stumbled as a menacing, strong-looking vampire who was way too handsome for being a villain blocked her path. "Going for this," he asked as he grabbed the sword and pulled it out of the sheath. "I don't think you're going to be using this pretty sword today Vampyre.