Sacred Blade Barber Novels & Stories

“Oh, Seraphim’s blade. I’d never seen this in a long long time. Seraph Blade killed many of my people. Where did you get it, my dear?” “Not telling you anything.” He looked at Lucius. “Is this the same blade given to you by your father-in-law?” What was he talking about? I watched Ryden shift and divert his gaze away, looking hurt. “I wish, but that’s what killed her. Mine is safe somewhere.” Wait. What? He has a sword just like mine? “But this blade also shapes according to the wielder. Am I right? And it’s Katana for her. She must have been trained by a great sensei.”

Marcus said, extending his gloved hand toward the scrub nurse. Without hesitation, the instrument was placed into his palm, its cool metal handle familiar against his fingers. He took a steady breath, then made the first incision—clean, precise, neither too deep nor too shallow. Every movement was deliberate, every stroke of the blade a result of years of training and countless procedures. There was no room for error. As the first layers of skin and tissue parted beneath his skilled hands, he focused solely on the task before him, his mind shutting out every other distraction. Around him, his team worked in perfect synchrony, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors a constant reminder of the fr

Gunnar added, leaning closer, his voice low. The barber swallowed hard, his initial bravado now replaced by a sheepish demeanor. “Yes, of course. I’ll stick to the haircut.” Gunnar leaned back, his mood slightly soured but still amused by the situation. The barber, clearly embarrassed and eager to make amends, quickly focused on his task, working diligently to perfect the Classic Quiff cut. Rene, still sipping his whiskey, finally looked up, noticing the tension. He raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Everything alright?”

Hello, Future Generations. My name is Saber. I’m the current Queen-to-be of the Fox Skulk (Foxes have Skulks like wolves have packs). I understand if this is a new concept to you or if you think that this book you have found can’t be real. I mean, Fox Skulk? Fox Shifters? Magic? If you’re a normal human living your mundane life, I’m sorry, but I’m about to blow the lid off everything you know.

"I'm not afraid. I gave my word I wouldn't harm any of your people, but I never promised that my followers won't attack you if I'm killed. So you see, Baal, one way or another, tonight you will die." Malcolm swallowed hard. He'd already figured as much. The prayers of one priest and three friends were not enough. God had abandoned him long ago. "Are you ready?" Stephan drew his sword. Malcolm drew his own sword. A gift from Van nilsen, it was razor sharp, the steel blade plated with pure silver. The hilt was steel and leather and fit perfectly in his hand. He swished the blade through the air and saluted Stephan. He allowed himself one last thought of Aya, then focused his mind on one thing

Seeing the lock on it, he gestured impatiently for Mardichi to turn the key so they could slide the metal bar and open it. They did all of that with relatively little sound. Cautiously peering out. I still stood in the corner like an idiot. Having no idea what was going on. Or what the devil a Noni is. Nor why it has two grown men acting like wary kittens. Sebastian pushed open the shutters and pointed downward. Mardichi walked purposefully to the counter and withdrew the biggest axe I’d ever seen in my life. But this one had dual blades on either side of the stock. Rusted in places from what I was certain was old blood stains.

Its eyes were no longer as self assured. They darted to the left and the right, searching desperately for a way out. It was trying to avoid me, but I would not let it get away. I did not hesitate. With one swift motion, I raised my arm and felt the weight of the sacred steel in my grip. The blade cleaved through the creature with a powerful swing, cutting it in half. The impact sent a wave of heat through the air, and smoldering remnants lingered in the space where the blade had struck.

I had a ceramic blade and a decade of repressed, agonizing fury. I lunged out of the alcove, driven by pure survival instinct. I didn't aim for his armored heart; I went for the vulnerable gap at the back of his knee. The razor-sharp ceramic blade slid through the tactical fabric like it was thin silk, severing the tendon. The man buckled with a choked gasp, his scream cut short as Luciano turned with predatory speed and finished him with a single point-blank shot.

He was the wealthy, arrogant playboy girls would swoon around, and also the Blade family's eldest son. "Ezekiel?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ezekiel Blade,” he said. "Why are you without your glasses, freckle face?” He always mentioned his last name like he was nothing without it. But I knew that he loved the name so much as it meant people would fear him. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand away from his grip. “Still a bully, huh? Besides, I don't wear glasses anymore, and I'm definitely not freckle face. It's Lydia Winters,” I said, mimicking his words.

Could the Lambert Corporation be in trouble, and they were about to enter bankruptcy, so Young Master Lambert came to die? Finally, Jeremiah responded. He glared at Antigonus and smiled evilly. "Kid, you think too highly of yourself. Let me see how strong you are." Suddenly, he shouted out loud. With his right hand, he drew out a long saber. It was white in color, just like snow. It turned into a moving light as Jeremiah violently slashed toward Antigonus. Many of the audience screamed out of fear. "I… I think that's the long-lost Snow Shadow Crazy Blade."