Shortsword Of First Blood Novels & Stories

she screamed. She raised her sword, its blade gleaming in the morning light—but there was no light, only cold shadow. The first strike came at me, the second toward Rowan. A double-edged movement, swift, soaked in blood. I leapt sideways, deflecting the blow with the edge of my blade. Old reflexes, the ones we had trained together, still lived in me: block, step, recover. Smoke drifted closer, sweat rolled down my face, but I did not let go.

The blade gleamed with a brilliant silver light, its edge shimmering with a promise of sharpness. The blood sword! I exclaimed internally, astonished by the fact that I had successfully conjured the legendary weapon known to be wielded by a valiant warrior from Cairos—a neighboring nation to Springgan. Apollo had shared stories about it, expressing his dream to create such a weapon one day. Empowered by the gauntlet, I held the blood sword with ease. The blade's edge gleamed, a testament to its lethal potential. Just as the icy shield surrounding me shattered, the dominus seized the opportunity to consume me. Its jaws opened wide as it lunged towards me. Reacting swiftly, I positioned the sw

But if I were going to die, I was taking as many of them with me as possible. Going back to the first guy, I knelt down and started patting him down for a weapon of some kind. No gun that I could feel, and even though I had some vision again, I certainly couldn't see one. Changing my expectation, I started sliding my hands down the flat planes of his body. Within moments, I found a knife. Considering it was almost as long as my forearm, I was going to call it a short sword. Either way, it would work. I took a deep breath as I straightened while still on my knees. Both hands around the grip of the weapon, I brought it down over the neck of the first man. Blood, hot and thick, shot from the wo

Eryndor's Shadowing dagger seemed to dance in the moonlight, its dark blade slicing through the air with a haunting screee-ksss. Each strike landed with a thud-thwack-thoom, sending tremors through the troop's warriors. The troop's hearts raced as the violent zing-ting-zap of clashing daggers filled the field. The savages of warriors, fueled by fury and loyalty, clashed in a frenzy of arms and teeth. The ground grew slick with blood, the earthy smell mingling with the metallic tang of steel. Jack Wolf stood firm, his Moon-whisper spear shining with a soft, ethereal light. He parried Eryndor's strikes with a precision born of desperation, his movements a blur of speed and strength.

Toward. Toward Ash. Toward Cove. Toward the kid about to explode. “Mother!” Wrath shouts. “Don’t!” I hit the vines. They don’t grab me. They part. First Blood knows First Blood. Ash is on her knees. Burning. Cove is on his. Smoking. Vines connecting them. Feeding. Killing both. I drop between them. Bone knife’s in my hand. Again. Always. “Stop,” I tell them. To Cove. To Ash. To the Tree. “Both of you. Stop.”

He's an enemy, he has to die. He comes nearer and nearer, and now I can see him very clearly, I can even feel his breath. He is just growing his first beard, a young boy out to get his fame early in the morning. As he passes by me I silently ask for forgiveness and drive the sword into his back. He opens his mouth to shout but no sound comes out. Blood spatters all over the place, and some lands on my clothes, and more sprinkles on the leaves and trees as I withdraw my sword and let him fall slowly into a soft thud. A lot of blood oozes out of his mouth and his glassy eyes look unblinkingly at me. I look away, unable to hold his gaze.

Quispe and her team narrowed their eyes, not a trace of hesitation in their stance, ready to face the onslaught together. "I've got this!" Yoel's voice cut through the chaos, his form instantly at the forefront of the fray. Swoosh! As the enemy's blade streaked toward them, Yoel's Blood Shadow Saber carved a gleaming arc of frosty light to intercept it. Forged from a unique metal and inspired by Howard's own legendary Blood Shadow Saber, the Blood Shadow Saber was a badge of honor for each member of the elite Blood Shadow Force, personalized with their names etched into the steel.

Darkness envelops me, but somehow I still see, even though my eyes are still shut. Or are they? That intense feeling bubbles in my chest again, but this time. It takes over. Pain shoots up my hands as I feel the skin of my fingers tearing apart as it elongates. It’s brutal, scary but there’s a power surge in me that numbs it all. And I strike. Someone shouts and jumps away. I don’t stop swinging my arms, they fly everywhere hitting whatever and whoever is in my line of vision. Everyone scampers, my hands unable to strike anything again.

it said. I stepped forward. The ground split beneath us as our power collided. The air bent inward, and the flames around us collapsed into drifting ash. I felt the bond between me and Kaelor stretch too thin. That was the first warning. The second was the cold. The heat vanished from my chest in an instant. The light shattered. And then it was too late. I did not see the blade until it was already inside me. There was no grand strike. No roar. Only the sudden weight of steel sliding through flesh and bone, exactly where the mark burned brightest.

“She’s inside and there is another man!” “Wait here.” Omar replied, helping the she-wolf to rest against the only wall not covered in blood. Omar moved calmly, pulling a hunting knife from his coat pocket. The way the blade winked wickedly in the pale light sent a chill down Chloe’s spine. She decided there and then she had seen enough of weapons and murder today and turned away from the door, gulping in air. Her throat burned and the bitter taste of bile still haunted Chloe’s mouth. Above her the clouds were breaking and golden sunlight was now filtering through, casting long shadows between the trees. It was too beautiful for the gruesome scene.