Shortsword Of First Blood Novels & Stories

Such a powerful sword move was fatal enough in one strike. In the blink of an eye, Alexander's fiery red sword shadow landed on one of the blood mists.

The white-haired and white-browed young man had unsheathed his long sword. It was a strange long sword that was as clear as jade. One flank of the sword was the cutting edge, and the other flank was a sharp sawteeth-shaped edge. The blade was long and narrow, and it looked like a beam of silver light when it shook. Every time it shook, a beam of light shot out from it like a fierce tiger coming out of a box. Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

The frost giant swings open his white icy palm. It was too late for me to evade him as his wide palm catches me like a human holding a toy. He slams my body to the snowy ground. Blood splatters from my mouth as I could feel intense pain all over my body. He did not let go. He swings my body slamming it against the ice floor while holding my left and right before he swung me a distance into the snow. I could feel my body arch and rattle in pain. My head down to my eyes covered in blood. This is my first fight. I manage to stand staggering to my feet. My eyes widen as he was already standing in front of me holding high his sword in his hand. The frost giant brought down his giant sword aiming

My body moved on raw, blind instinct: the Alpha defending his den. I threw myself forward in a heartbeat, placing my bare chest and full ten‑foot bulk directly into the path of the strike. My greatsword of dark steel rose—but it was not enough. The star‑metal edge sheared my blade clean in two with a deafening snap and kept driving downward. The searing steel pierced my left shoulder and sank four inches deep into my chest, burning through flesh, searing tendons, and grating against bone—steam hissing, blood evaporating in a heartbeat.

"Let the fight begin!" Willow watches as Jay pulls out a blade, too short to be called a sword and too long to be called a knife. Willow brought out his own sword and swung it in the air adjusting himself for Jay. Willow made the first move. Jay dodge and blocked his attack smoothly. Willow managed to cut his thigh as Jay sliced his weapon into Willow's shoulder. They gave themselves a gap and watched as their wounds healed. "First Blood!" Moses shouted. Willow smiled, at least they were even.

Now, only power spoke. Gloria knelt first, laying a talon-shaped blade across her knees. Its hilt was carved from bone that pulsed faintly in the darkness, like a heartbeat echoing through the ground. The air grew colder around her, coiling like serpents, and her lips moved without sound. The frost crawling along her skin wasn’t entirely natural; it was the blade calling to her, the spirits whispering their obedience.

He lunged. He moved with the terrifying speed of a born predator, blurring through the shadows as his hunting blade arched downward, aiming directly for my throat. I didn’t try to match his speed—I couldn’t. Instead, I waited until the very last second, using the weight of the ceremonial broadsword to my advantage. I pivoted my weight, letting the heavy blade swing downward in a massive, desperate arc.

Feeling Dewey's strong aura, Shea inhaled deeply and gritted her teeth as she pulled out a longsword. "Stupid girl, you asked for it." At that moment, Dewey did not waste his breath, and he uttered those words coldly. He waved the Tungsten Gold Sword, and a glaring sword glow was emitted, charging at Shea. Shea bit her lips tightly, activating all of her powers while holding the longsword in front of her. Boom! Instantly, the sword glow erupted and struck Shea's longsword, causing a loud boom. Shea groaned, and her body was thrown out a dozen meters away. Finally, she hit a mountain wall and slid down.

The long, narrow blade … the snake guard … the scale-carved hilt—she covered every detail of her sword. Listening to the flow of her blood, it was like a river. At times it runs peacefully, and at times it runs wildly … but all the same, it flows endlessly. She had to use it now ... to save herself and Estevan. Then, at last, her mind became in sync with her blood flow. The picture of her rapier was as clear as ice inside her head. Everything flashed … Her right hand grew colder and colder. When she opened her eyes, it glowed brightly in blue light, shining all eyes into blindness.

She pressed a folded cloth into my hands and knelt across from me without being asked, holding Ashford's shoulders down with a strength that belied her age. "The blade," I said. "I need to see the blade that did this." "Here." A young warrior, one of the eastern gate patrol, held out the weapon with shaking hands, the metal catching firelight in a way that confirmed what I already suspected. Silver, worked deliberately into the steel, forged specifically to poison a wolf's blood rather than simply cut it.