Sinister Blade Novels & Stories

“You really think Zeta and Thane won’t drag your sorry ass down with them? Don’t be stupid, Blade. You’re disposable.” He charged. Scarlet barely had time to breathe before silver flashed...bright, violent, screaming under the moonlight. The blade sang as it cut through the air, aimed straight for her heart. Silver. Pure. Deadly. Her world slowed. Her eyes widened. Fuck... A body slammed into hers, knocking the air out of her lungs. Warmth splashed across her chest. A familiar scent...burned pine, blood, regret...wrapped around her like a memory she’d tried to kill.

"I thought you were going to tell me more about your little project! Come on, keep talking!" "I am going to peel the skin from your face for that." His voice dropped into a dangerous, vibrating register that made the air itself seem to tremble. He swiped his left hand through the air, and three sharp, purple psychic blades materialized, launching straight at my chest with deadly precision.

“I let myself believe again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…” “Well,” Thorne interrupted, “I think the show’s over.” He pulled out a long silver blade from his robes. It shimmered under the emergency lights. “Let me show you what I do with weak links.” Before I could react, he moved. Fast. Too fast. Like he didn’t follow the same rules of time as the rest of us. The blade sliced across the first girl’s throat. She collapsed without a word. Then the next. And the next. And finally, Riven.

He holds it up, letting the sharp edge hover inches from Charmaine's battered face, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "This blade," he begins, turning it slowly so she can see the deadly precision of its edge, "is more than just a weapon. It's an instrument of truth, a master of persuasion. When it meets flesh, it does more than draw blood. It peels back the layers of a person, cuts through pride, arrogance, and resistance, until all that’s left is the raw, trembling core of who you really are… and just so you know, this ain’t no ordinary steel—it’s a raw and undiluted silver. You know what silver can do to the flesh of a werewolf, don’t you?"

Its bolts, coated in poison, can quickly fell even heavily armored foes. "Come forth challenges, for you will meet your end upon my chains, until we find the map's missing piece," Voicing out, Serene, as the Chainblader, cracks her knuckles, ready for whatever awaits us in the shadows as she pulls out her scalpel chain, a terrifying weapon that can eviscerate flesh with one swing. Its many blades glint menacingly in the torchlight. That hundreds of razor sharp links, capable of slicing through flesh and bone with ease, will render any enemy, obstacle, challenges and anything who gets too close into ragged pieces.

Witnessing the creation of a level-five protective divine weapon brought much joy to Severin. The Oculus Blade was previously nothing more than a level-one protective divine weapon. Yet, Severin was already able to rely on his formidable combat prowess and leverage on the support conferred by the protective divine weapon to kill a level eight supreme paragon, Mohsin. Though his own skills played a huge role in that success, much of the credit belonged to the Oculus Blade.

She had told him about their scary and terrifying figures and their names. The one who was a tall and had gaunt figure with sunken eyes that glowed like smoldering coals was named Morgrath. Her black robes hung loosely around her skeletal frame, giving her an air of ethereal menace. Morgrath was a master of necromancy, capable of commanding the spirits of the departed to do her bidding. Seraphina had told him was said that she wore jewellery made out of the bones and cursed artifacts, which were remnants of her twisted experiments.

I forced myself to say. "It doesn't matter, Reis. As a matter of fact, she's on my side now, and she's going to help me execute my plan. And there's nothing you can do about it." He smirked and leaned back in his chair before snapping his fingers. Some men approached with a tray. Resting on it was a blade emitting a glowing green light. "Let me introduce you to the Blade of Poison," Cillian began. "I'm sure you can sense the lethal energy radiating from this blade. We've spent years designing it to kill usurpers like yourself."

By the time the sharp wind brushed past my cheek, my hand had already risen, two fingers closing around the blade before it could pass. The dagger stilled instantly. Cold metal rested between my fingers, its faint vibration betraying the force behind the throw. I studied it briefly, noting its balance, its weight, the precision of its edge. It was well-crafted. Clean enough to open a throat without resistance. So this was how they chose to begin. I did not turn. Instead, I let my awareness expand, reaching into the stillness of the room, following the disturbances in the air rather than the silence itself.

Fate had delivered his moment. He turned, leaving Aliyah with his assassins and walked forward, slowly and confidently. His black ring shimmered. He touched it, and from the void, a blade formed. Not a normal blade, it has no steel, no edge to be seen. It was a shadow given form, its surface rippling like smoke caught in a storm. It pulsed with an otherworldly weight, a weapon meant for one purpose only. A blade to be wielded once… then vanish forever.