Romans & histoires Revenge Of The Sword Hound Novel

I shouted, but she was frozen, her eyes fixed on the hound as it turned, as it sighted me instead, as it decided that I was the greater threat. Good. Let it decide that. I had no weapon but shadow and desperation. The geas was burning now, the hour's grace expiring, my magic guttering like a candle in a hurricane. But I was not the girl who had died screaming at a screen. I was the revenant who had risen from burial soil with darkness in her teeth. The hound charged.

He draws the sword through the icy fire terrain. He had murdered hundreds, drunk all their blood and left them withering to the dirt. He walked as he uttered, "I am Revenge: sent from the infernal kingdom, To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind, By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes. Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. ... And wash their hands in...Kathleen's blood."

She had been the only person who stayed beside him when everyone else began turning away. And after she disappeared— not a single trace of her had ever truly been found. “I don’t believe you,” Dante said coldly. Victor chuckled softly as he slowly got back to his feet. “But you’re curious.” Dante said nothing. Because the most infuriating part— was that Victor was right. “What proof do you have?” Dante finally asked. Victor took out a handkerchief and calmly wiped the blood from his face. “Peter wanted revenge on anyone who ever touched Aurora.”

Swunggg~ … A very sudden swing of the sword almost managed to hit Damien's body from behind. Damien turned around and Reinhard was right in front of him, with Damien's mystical sword that could kill anyone with a single slash even if it was just a scratch. “[... Looks like you've forgotten who your master is ...]” Damien said while smiling at Reinhard. Or rather, towards the demon race spirit of his mystical sword that was possessing Reinhardt's body. "[... Is this what is called a dog that bites its own master? ...]" Reinhard was silent for a moment and smiled back at Damien. “… [Die] …”

The three lead Iron Hounds froze in their tracks, their paws sticking to the icy crust of the snow as the silver energy turned the moisture around them into solid ice. "Now, Kael!" I called out. Kael, my single-armed commander, did not hesitate. He lunged forward, his iron sword finding the soft flesh beneath the chin of the frozen hound. The beast fell without a whimper, its dark blood steaming as it spilled over the white snow. The Southern warriors behind the hounds realized they had lost the advantage of surprise. One of them, a tall man with a silver crescent crest on his breastplate, pointed his pike directly at me.

Al perched on the hilt of his sword and pressed the blade to stick it into the ground with the help of his weight. The supergiant hellhound's head finally turned to ashes and stopped regenerating. Al breathed a sigh of relief. He drew his sword from the ground and caught up to join in attacking the supergiant hellhound's body that was still trying to fight even though it didn't have any head. The others saw Edmund burning the supergiant hellhound's neck with holy fire while Kyron was violently slashing the supergiant hellhound's stomach. Keefe was seen shooting healing water towards the wounds on the supergiant hellhound's body. Black blood continued to flow profusely from the giant dog beas

Finally, something to kill. It makes Ms. Beast very happy. With the Mortuary sword held high, I go after a hellhound larger than the ones we see on the island. And fresher. I don't stop to think about what this creature really is. It wants me dead, and that's enough for me to end its existence. Toxic saliva drips from razor teeth. Creepy, intelligent eyes don't blink when it charges. Sword held in my massive claws as I've been trained, I swing. A large spray of blood covers me, and the hound's head sails through the air until it hits a tree with a loud, wet smack.

The flames snuffed out, leaving only the faint glow of the reborn sword resting atop the anvil. Veyra reached for it, her hands trembling. The moment her fingers brushed the hilt, a jolt shot through her—a surge of warmth, rage, and fierce purity so intense it stole her breath. The blade hummed softly, vibrating in her grasp, as if eager to be unleashed. It gleamed in the torchlight: a weapon of blood, of storm, and of a soul that refused to fade. The mystical sword was born. The others stepped closer, silent witnesses to the miracle.

Serena sneered coldly, staring at the face she once loved so deeply. It had been love at first sight back then. But now, when she looked at him, her heart was calm—untouched, unshaken. The greatest sorrow is when the heart dies. The true opposite of love isn’t hate—it’s indifference. And that’s exactly what she felt for him now. No anger. No pain. Just silence. The Art of Revenge was never about rage—it was about letting go. She didn’t need to destroy them. Her joy was the masterpiece. And they would suffer, helplessly, watching her shine.

"It seems that all the villagers in this entire village have been refined into Yin Spirits in the house, aiding him in cultivation. Such a cruel and heinous act, I, Lily Moon, must eradicate evil and uphold justice today!" Lily Moon suddenly took a deep breath, pinched a sword tactic, and her surrounding spiritual power was mobilized. The jade sword emitted a crisp humming sound, and the sword body accompanied by intermittent brilliance. Following that, Lily Moon's sleeves fluttered, the long sword in her hand lifted, and the sword followed her heart, fast as thunder! "Moonlight Radiant Slash!" Boom! Like the light of the scorching sun, it was like a monstrous giant beast, fiercely colliding