Saints Sword Novels & Stories

" Lies! You were there when he declared he will disown me if I lose the competition " " Are you aiming for the loser position in the first place? " I asked, stunning him. " You are Jasper Lawn. You are a prince of FFC. Love by the majority. You can't continue to lag and let Theo take the gold all the time. Show everyone what you are made of. Not just because...of your dad or something but because you are JL... does it for yourself " My words succeeded in putting JL at ease. I slowly walk to him and retrieve the knife from his fingers and he let me.

Her intense gaze, hardened by countless battles, was tempered by her unwavering loyalty to Somerland. To Elysia's left stood Gareth Swordbane, widely feared and respected as the Sword Demon. He was a tall, imposing figure, his eyes sharp and deadly. Known for wielding a blade with unparalleled mastery, Gareth’s skill in swordsmanship was legendary, his reputation as a ruthless opponent striking fear into the hearts of all who dared challenge him. His sword, an ancient blade etched with runic symbols, was strapped across his back, and his eyes held a piercing focus that spoke of countless battles fought and won.

but thankfully, the red was gone. I took a sigh of relief and straighten my back, wearing that black holy cassock over my shoulder and pure white collar around my neck; a symbol of my chastity from so many years, couldn't remember the exact date though...or year in my case. “ Father, the wolves have arrived"

’ everybody assumed impatiently. Tension of the crowd was aroused in alarm, their hearts raced with unwelcoming anticipation. Finally, a figure emerged from the huge waves as a victor, the sword of Eryndor– Eryndor, exhausted but triumphant, his Conch shell still clutched in his hand.

His wings crackled with lightning as he maximized his power output, revealing a long, translucent sword covered in green lightning from his sleeves. As he unveiled the sword, lightning burst forth in the air, unleashing an aura on par with Boltair. "This sword is called Heavenly Verdict, forged with green heavenly lightning beyond the ninth heavens. It is used in place of divine punishment," said Saint Dragon proudly. "It's my Hall's greatest treasure. I've used it to kill 17 powerful practitioners. You shall be the 18th." Logan seemed unfazed, swinging his sword again. The concentrated purple lightning made the blade appear black, cutting through the skies. It left a trail as though the voi

My eyes drifted to the ceiling, my mind already pulling back to the battlefield I had abandoned. The war is waiting for me, the blood, the chaos. It would be brutal. Relentless. But I had never lost a war before. And I wasn’t about to start now. Not when there was something far more important waiting for me at the end of it. ⸻ “Author’s Note Hi, readers I hope you’re enjoying No Saint here so far. If you’re loving the tension between Abaddon and Aurelia, then you should definitely check out their full story on GoodNovel.

for now. He strode to the weapon table. His fingers hovered over blades, picks, and knives until they closed around the whip. It wasn’t just any whip. It was one of Silvio’s special creations. A whip laced with thorned steel. He grabbed it, turned then struck them without warning.

"Watch her, brat, and don't let her out of your sight. If you lose her, I'll kill you instead." The other men didn't seem to think much about this young man and kept ordering him around. Meanwhile, I realized that he was the only one who didn't look at me lustfully or maliciously. "Dustin Lively," I said, precisely calling him by his name. Dustin was stunned. He looked at me guardedly and asked, "How did you know my name?" Of course it was because I could read the live comments on the screen! As it turned out, Dustin was supposed to be the original main protagonist of the movie. He would later go on to found and manage the base at the Northern Pole.

His danger wasn’t cruel. A shadow fell across the bar. Another man approached, taller, broader, his beard thick and his smile sharp as a blade. His vest bore the same patch as Blake’s, though I didn’t dare look too close at what it meant. “Well, well,” the man drawled, eyes sliding over me in a way that made my stomach clench. “Didn’t know you were bringing strays, Blake.” The word stray hit like a slap. Heat rushed to my cheeks, shame pricking beneath my skin.

His voice in my ear, his hands on my face, his tongue welding with mine… caressing, kneading, exploring, kissing just about every entry point in my body… His big hands were on my breasts, touching, squeezing, teasing my nipples… Clack! The sound startled me out of my lurid thoughts. I opened my eyes and saw that my rosary had fallen from my wrist to the ground, giving me a rude awakening. My heart raced as I faced the choice to heed God’s warning by picking up my prayer bead or take my hands off my breasts as they held on for dear pleasure. “You’re a saint,” I said softly, addressing no one but myself, “you’re a saint.” I repeated the words over and over until I fought my animal urge to rub