Scud Blade Novels & Stories

The senior scout, probably, the one Levin’s intel pegged as Damon’s eyes in the human world. Ruth’s response is a grunt, all business. “Copy. He’s got a blade—silver, from the glint. You want him breathing?” “No,” I say, my tone flat, the wolf in me itching for the kill. “But don’t drag it out. Levin needs intel.” I rise slow, silent as a ghost, the fog swirling around my legs. The alley’s a black maw—neon from a distant bar flickering off wet bricks, graffiti snarling warnings in claw marks. The scout freezes, his head snapping toward me, eyes glowing yellow in the dark. Damon’s, I confirm, my lip curling. He bolts, but Ruth’s already on him, her form blurring as she shifts mid-stride, claw

The first was to use the Thunder Order, and the second was to use the Soul Blade. Although the thunder and lightning from the Thunder Order could not smash the close-defense missiles made from steel, it could at least destroy the close-defense missiles’ circuit system. If the close-defense missiles lost power, it would be equivalent to the battery of an electric vehicle being stolen. The huge turret and thick barrel would not be able to move at all, let alone lock onto the target. The power of the Soul Blade was even greater. It could cut through iron as if it was cutting clay, so if Charlie were to use it on the close-defense missiles, the Soul Blade would be able to cut the close-defense m

No one present—not the three bewildered thugs, nor the whimpering leader, Blade—had clearly seen the move. Skylar Vance’s hand, small and delicate, looked utterly frail, yet it had crushed the muscle and bone of Blade’s thick forearm with casual ease. The sound of splintering bone was relentless, a horrifying, staccato crack-crack-crack that merged sickeningly with Blade’s uncontrollable, animalistic shrieks. Under the weak, sputtering light bulb, the scene was an absolute nightmare.

Mathin parried. And suddenly Scy was there, a katana-like energy blade weaving like St. Elmo’s fire, interfering with the monster’s blade and luring it away while Mathin freed himself. Balanced on one foot, Mathin withdrew his own gun and stood ready to aid should Scy need it.

he said. I looked towards the entrance of the gym as Blade walked through it. Blade is a Seer and he has been with my pack since I was a pup. He isn’t a shifter but he pledged his life to my father once he became of age to do so. Before then he was under my father’s protection and now I’ve taken on that pact. He is one of my best friends. His position isn’t normal, as a Seer is usually a female. It's for that reason he is doing his own research on his background. For now he can keep his privacy on it so long as his safety or the packs’ isn’t in jeopardy. He walked over to where we were sitting with his hands in his suit pockets. “I knew I’d find you two in here. Drills weren’t enough to driv

Arung said, his voice devoid of pity. But as the scouts tumbled into the abyss, a shadow detached itself from the rocks above. A figure, sleek and encased in matte-black armor, lept from the ridge with the grace of a predator. He didn't care about his subordinates; he was looking for the source of the glow. He landed twenty feet in front of them, his helmet visor glowing with a soft red HUD. He held a high-frequency blade that hummed with a sound that mirrored the mountain’s own internal resonance.

From my wrist sleeve, I slipped out my insurance policy. It wasn't metal. Metal would set off the magnetometer wands Jarrah’s enforcers would undoubtedly sweep over me before I stepped foot inside the cathedral. It was a five-inch, customized carbon-fiber blade jet black, feather-light, double-edged, and completely invisible to security scanners. It was a quiet, lethal piece of engineering I’d bought off the black market two years ago. Carefully, with methodical precision, I slid the sheath into the tailored pocket built within the heavy boning beneath my left rib cage. The blade sat flush against my ribs, hidden entirely by the cascading layers of lace and reinforced satin.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

"What is that...?" Careful now no longer to examine the pass in the back of him that stood at his height, Anna grew to become her gaze away and inquired. "The pass-fashioned sacred sword, the 'The Scared Cross Blade.' Just by elevating it, regular vampires can be immobilized. Its blade is likewise very sharp. Its most effective flaw is it is too heavy. Probably 30kg." "I have researched crosses in my line of work, yours... A weapon? And the holiness it carries... Very notable."

We thought we had killed them all. Rivers of blood soaked the ground and flowed between the trees in the forest south of Scarlet Moon. Torn and broken bodies littered our path as we retreated to the safety of the only pack Sebastian trusted with those most precious to him. We limped through the gates, bloody and battle weary after taking on at least five men a piece. Unbeknownst to us at the time, one man survived, Blue Blade, named for the unique and deadly weapon he wields. He is the one who sends rogues to the border, taunting me, letting me know he is still out there, waiting for me to blink so he can strike.