Sacred Blade Barber Novels & Stories

“You don’t need to get hurt.” “No, you all don’t understand what’s happening!” Babe replied defensively as her voice got louder and louder. Suddenly, the infirmary door opened hard enough to slam against the wall behind it as a very angry Breed stood there, dressed in only a pair of jeans. “What the everlovin’ fuck is going on in here?” “Boss, Blade was using Babe to get free,” Brick growled out. “No, he wasn’t,” Babe assured everyone. “I came here tonight to ask him something but I swear, he didn’t ask me to free him… he didn’t.”

Aziz murmured a snarky remark, so only I could hear. I didn’t spare him a glance, instead. “Uncle, do you want me to?” “Yes,” Eren said. “Bring the scimitar.” I took the other curved blade from its box. Not a hellblade flashing a ruby, just good old steel. The old man’s eyes lit when it flashed. He set the cane aside with his thumb stroking the curve of the blade. “Magnificent,” he breathed. “This blade looks so good. Can you fix it up for me before purchase? sharpen it, nothing vulgar since it is a gift.”

Nayomi offered, moving to the other side of the bed so she would be able to observe my every move. "How do you know so much about magical blades?" Alpha Tristan asked, a genuine spark of hope finally igniting in his bloodshot eyes. "A personal secret, and one I intend to keep. Now hold still," I murmured, my voice becoming steady and professional despite the chaos in the room. This wasn't just a surgical procedure; it was a high-stakes battle against time, magic, and decay.

Lucian briefly answered, withholding some information. "Why is he not healing? I need to fully know what happened to him do I can know which treatment I'd give him" Chris instructed sternly. Lucian hesitated for a while, thinking whether to tell him or not. Then he looked at the two nurses who were quick to get the memo and they left. "What was he stabbed with?" Chris pried further. "An enchanted silver dagger" Lucian divulged, earning a gasp from Chris. "That's bad, really bad." Chris chanted, his face showing his worry.

Cassidy studied them closely, having never been allowed to wield a sword during her training classes with her siblings. Derek's gaze kept sliding to her, and again his sword flew from his grasp. He cursed sharply. "Why is the Fox here? Shouldn't she be in a shadowed corner waiting to pop out and stab someone?" Cassidy glared at the Lycan. "Am I too distracting, My Lord, or are you just a fumbling idiot this morning?" Laughter echoed in the yard and Derek colored hotly. He stomped over to her, "If you're going to be in the training yard, let's see some training then." He returned her glare. "Unless, of course, you're only useful on your back."

“Nah. Sold him to the black market. As a slave. Also, the women who saw your face have been removed. So don’t worry about it now.” “Thank you.” I started scrolling through the chapters of traditional herbs. “Busy?” “Nah. Just checking the skipped classes.” “I see. Have you met your first target?” “Not yet. I will soon,” I said, feeling something hard pressing against my back. It was the dagger His Majesty had gifted me. I took it out and looked at it carefully. It was a hundred-year-old dagger used by three generations of Alphas. The fact that it was still as sharp as a sashimi knife made me admire it even more.

He looked at the only thing in the house as dangerous as himself. "Don't let your edges go dull because you're afraid of the damage you do," he whispered, leaning down until the scent of cedar and ozone was a physical weight. "The Syndicate is coming to harvest you. My guards are coming to contain you." He pressed the handle of the obsidian blade into my free hand. His singed fingers brushed mine, and the contact was an earthing wire—a violent jolt of heat that made the silver threads on my temple ignite with a defiant spark.

It was a cathartic process, a ritual of transformation. Henry applied a layer of rich, aromatic shaving cream to his face, the scent mingling with the steam that filled the air. With practiced precision, he brought the razor to his cheek, the blade gliding effortlessly across his skin, leaving behind a trail of smoothness. Each stroke was deliberate, a meticulous dance between the sharp steel and the contours of his face.

“The moment I touched it, it felt like someone was ripping my heart apart from the inside.” Nathan’s face tightened. “Let me see.” Aiden didn’t answer. Nathan carefully moved closer to the dagger, studying it without touching it. “What kind of weapon is this?” Nathan’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh God it’s bad Aiden, Raiden didn’t want to kill you..” “He wanted to torture you to death. What he stabbed you with is a Sacred relic..no forbidden weapon” his face turned worst as he continued. “It’s called a Ritual Blade. I have read about it in one of Mirabel’s spell books, it was used by a powerful witch who gained power by killing supernatural beings and absorbing its power. She created this weap

The Blade Sect’s Grand Patriarch used to be a great thief who specialized in stealing treasure from different sects. His name was Falco Barrett. Countless years ago, he gathered a group of powerhouses and blood-bathed Sangria’s Crepe Myrtle Sword Pavilion. Then, he snatched the Crepe Myrtle Divine Sword and some of the Crepe Myrtle Sword Pavilion’s sword techniques. After he obtained the Crepe Myrtle Divine Sword, he immediately knew it was an extraordinary weapon.