Savage Lynel Sword Novels & Stories

“Then win. Not for the throne. For us.” Lucien leaned down, forehead pressing to hers. “Always.” The horn blew. Nyra entered the ring, wrapped in silver and black, her blades glinting under the moonlight. “Let’s see if the king still knows how to bleed,” she called. Lucien stepped forward, and the crowd roared. Selene gripped the edge of the stone wall, knuckles white. She couldn’t look away. She wouldn’t. The first clash of metal rang out like thunder.

The vampire boy cried out, fearing the rage of the Lycan king who was hell-bent on making his death painful. “Lyceon. He is telling the truth!” Ashina muttered behind him. Lyceon pulled his hand back out of his bloody chest making him gasp in pain and glared at his sister. Ashina swallowed knowing very well that she had to shut her mouth if she wanted to survive his fury.

Lixien didn’t give a glance to Leen and continued examining the sword. If it’s from seven mountains, then this must be the ‘Flaming Red Fire of Lava’. It was a sword that everyone is obsessed with. It’s a sword that chooses his master. It also can talk from others' descriptions. She squinted her eyes. Why is Vailn giving her such a precious gift? She snapped her fingers and blinked. Her brows were slightly frowned as she was understanding why he was being too considerate or was it not considerate?

He looked like a vulture. He kicked me hard in the ribs. Then placed his iron-shod boot directly on my throat. “Your kingdom is dead, Seraphina,” he sneered. “Your people are ashes. Your ‘king’ abandoned you. And now, the Lycan line ends in the mud.” He raised his silver sword. The blade caught the orange firelight. He didn’t even look me in the eye as he swung. Just as the sword fell, a deafening howl shook the entire valley.

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

He was panting as he knelt, and he couldn't wait any longer, so he messed up his hair with his hands. I looked at him intently. I watched closely how his expert fingers combed his hair. Nonetheless, my gaze was drawn downward to how his body was built to crush me. His biceps and chest look so strong and delectable. With the tone and precision with which they were created, his abdomen almost screams "bed me." I almost lost my breath seeing his V-line, and I could not just look downward, afraid to lose consciousness after seeing his sword. I gasped when he suddenly crawled on top of me and even kissed my jaw sensually.

Aito knew Yeo-sang would never hit him anyway. Yeo-sang was taller and stronger than Aito. With golden blonde hair and cold dark eyes. He came from a long line of soldiers and his father was currently a General. He grew up in the army barracks but refused to join the army when he came of age. Instead, he ran off to high school and joined a volleyball team. Yeo-sang had never lost a match in his life till he met Aito.

Dimurah had stopped whatever she’d been pretending to do, to lean over the counter and shout at him. Thinking to stop me. Again. “Ah. Then you’re merely perfidious. A disloyal Dread bait.” Savage enunciated the words through gritted teeth. “I’m not!” ColdKill defended. Flushing with rage. When he yanked his sword breaker, a short, spiked hammer, from the loop strung from his belt, Savage was ready. He ripped it loose at the same time ColdKill lifted it. Using the man’s own momentum to wrench it from ColdKill’s fist. In that same movement, Savage stuck it in the side of ColdKill’s cheek where he knew softer tissue to be.

Her voice seemed to come from an ancient time, and it was filled with endless sorrow and grief. Elton watched Hunter fall slowly, and he turned a menacing gaze on Sebastian as he said, "I admit defeat when it comes to spells, you brat! However, would you dare to battle against me?" Elton was suddenly holding a long sword whose blade seemed to be almost transparent. A vague outline of a dragon could be seen. "The Sable Dragon!" Gary murmured to himself in shock when he saw the sword. The sword was one of the celestial weapons. Elon Wynde, the founder of yellow paper charm spells, was also nicknamed Ghost Master. That was the sword he had used.

Lylah stared at the different weapons set before her—swords, axes, spears, daggers of all kinds—all polished. Slowly, the weight of her decision sank into her chest, choking her. She glanced at the Grand Lord, who was giving orders to a warrior that stood listening with full attention. Lylah swallowed at the sight of Lucas’s built form, muscles rippling beneath his skin underneath his loose tunic. He was utterly terrifying—the second strongest Lycan in the realm.