Samurai Champloo Jin Sword Novels & Stories

It turned out that all 20 silver bumpers on the front of Black Lightning were long, extremely high-grade Qi swords. Ding Hao held the long sword in his hand, activated his Qi, and made a backhand slash. The massive body of the giant Golden Baboon instantly cleaved into two like a piece of paper. Black Lightning streaked through the gap, and a powerful gale separated the two gigantic halves. Blood splattered like pouring red seawater, dyeing the boundless sea of trees and land red.

He cried out as he got the shock of his life. Fucking hell, Hae-Jin is good with the weapons, alright. Not only did he create a whip that can choke, claw the life out of you, but he’d also made it a taser. Even Indra is surprised as she eyed the whip. “I didn’t know it did that,” she says. She turns to us then. “Seriously?” she eyed us. “You don’t know how to use the guns?” I fought the urge to scowl and raised my arms up. Liam got into position as well. I briefly eyed Miles and discovered that the Samurai is dead.

Jin is in shock when he saw all of this, repairing his sword means a lot to him, it was given to him by a friend who was very dear to him. “I can’t believe this is happening, I mean.. It’s too good to be true.” Jin said to Martha. “Well, this is all possible because our leaders saw your dedication and effort in all your work, they told me that your sword is one of your best treasures, so both of them arranged and approved this project.” Jin looked at his sword hanging on the wall, tearing up. “Hey Jin! Good morning!” two men who also wears the same uniform as Martha greeted Jin.

He couldn't help it, he laughed out loud. "That's my sword love." He said approaching her. She tightened her stance and pointed the sword at him. "Well then I think I won?" She smiled at him. "Sword!" He yelled. Jason unhooked his sword and stepped forward handing his sword to Gavin. His sword had a beautiful golden handle that shined in the sunlight. It was much thicker than Gavin's. Gavin's sword was lighter and felt good in Morgan's hand. It was silver which differed from most of the men on the ship. It was definitely heavier than swords she had used before but she would make this work. They stared at each other for a moment waiting to see who would attack first.

The man’s mouth opened to shout. Leigh was a blur. Her dagger flashed, not for a killing strike, but a silencing one—upward through the jaw, into the brain. The man crumpled without a sound. She caught him, lowering him gently into the shadows. Her eyes met Makil’s, cold and efficient. No hesitation. The battlefield. But the movement had been seen. A shout went up. A pointing finger. The chanting stuttered, then rose into a roar of alarm. “Time’s up!” Duncan bellowed, hefting his great axe. “Light the fuses! To the ropes!”

’ 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.

Even if they would still respond if the master only used their energy. Rion's sword was named Zephyr. The 'gentle breeze', even though the attack was not anything gentle at all. It was always deadly, but with the minimum wound. This is how Rion could show a little compassion to those who fell as his enemies. A quick, merciful death.

For a short while each morning, the citadel felt almost peaceful. Adrian stepped into the open courtyard with his sword resting against his shoulder. The stone beneath his boots was cold, still damp with the night’s lingering frost. Thin mist curled along the edges of the training grounds, giving the towering walls a ghostlike appearance. He set the sword down carefully in the center of the courtyard. The weapon was enormous—nearly as tall as his shoulder and heavy enough that most soldiers struggled to lift it with both hands. Adrian lifted it easily. The familiar weight settled into his grip like an old companion.

General Jin was always an indifferent man on the surface but his childish remarks from time to time made the people wonder if he was doing it on purpose or not. Then with a quick movement of his hand, a white sword appeared from thin air. The power emitting from that single weapon could bring anyone to their knees from the simple pressure. No one would dare to challenge that man, not even the rest of the fighters. Only the Duke was capable. "I know what you are trying to do, boy," General Jin approached the Duke while clashing his sword with the black one. "But… if you want to let your fairy claim the prize you will have to pass me, and I won't go down easily."

“Fucking monks and your pretty tricks! You hide behind chants while your hands drip with blood!” He flicked his free hand, and a spread of throwing knives whistled through the air, glinting under the arena lights. Jin twisted his staff, spinning it like a windmill, deflecting the blades mid-flight, the sharp clinks echoing around. “You lack focus,” Jin said softly, stepping forward with a sudden thrust that struck Leroy’s chest and sent him staggering back. “Shut your mouth!” Leroy roared. His aura darkened, boiling with anger. He blurred forward, dropping low to the ground. “Silent Knife— Throat Split!”