Six Blades Jiu-jitsu Keller Novels & Stories

Teresa Keller darted off into the fray, fighting as if his life depended on it. Two men grabbed him from behind, and one raced towards him. He jabbed one on the elbow, simultaneously thrusting his sword back with his non-dominant hand. The weapon connected, dropping the warrior, gagging. Keller darted out of the way just in time as Bennett’s wolf swung his limbs, sending a guard sailing forward and slamming onto the man before Keller as they toppled to the ground.

"Kiba. One badass martial art swordsman" "And lastly...oops that's all for now" Kim chuckled. "This is our three best assassin in the Venom Tract cult group. Katarina has 50 kills with 2 fails. Brute is a human Abbatoir. He tears human limb for limb for the fun. He has 60 kills and just 1 fail. Kiba a very good hand to hand combat expert. Knows 4 different fighting techniques, and to top it up he is an expert in sword fighting." "I didn't sign a death wish" Abel said, taking of his shirt. Exposing the blood dripping sword cut at his back from Kiba. "Did the price on my head go up. Or you all just want me dead quickly."

BLADE 2. He forced his tongue into my mouth and pinned my two hands roughly on the bed. He doesn't allow me move. I wiggled my body but he ended up hitting my boobs with his palm. The pain sent the wrong sensation down my pussy. It throbbed shamelessly. He stopped kissing me and before I knew it, I landed a slap on his cheek which I regret doing. His demeanor changed instantly. I presume it didn't sit well with him.

Broad. Muscles thick under his black training shirt. His name was Kael, one of Ryder’s best fighters. He looked serious. No smile. Just calm, dark eyes. Ms. D pointed at him, then at me. “You’re sparring. No claws. No shifting. First to pin or force surrender wins.” My stomach dropped. Kael was huge. His arms were bigger than my thighs. I trained with Ms. D yesterday just basic moves, nothing real. This was different.

Blades of light formed and dissolved in his hands, each strike faster, sharper, more efficient than the last. He did not speak. He did not hesitate. But sometimes, in the space between movements, something lingered. A memory. A question. He pushed harder. Faster. Stronger. As if precision could silence it. In Hell, training was anything but controlled. Explosions of power. Collisions of force. Laughter mixed with impact. Kaelith moved through it all effortlessly, dodging one attack only to counter another, his movements unpredictable, his power raw but growing sharper with every clash.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the training yard. Kael stood at the center, the silver blade in his hands. It had been months since he had held it with any intention—months since the sword had been anything more than a relic, a reminder of battles won and lost. But today was different. Today, he would pass it on. The students gathered in a wide circle around him, their faces a mixture of curiosity and reverence. They had heard the stories. They had seen the symbols. But few of them had ever seen the Twin Blades up close.

We continued like that for a while. Knives first. Then he switched to short practice blades closer to small swords. The weight difference was immediately obvious. “These are closer to what you’d carry in a real fight,” he explained. “Short swords are faster.” I tried a few movements. Nearly dropped the blade. Bastian caught it easily. “Relax,” he said. “I’m trying.” He studied me for a moment. “You know what your biggest problem is?” “What?” “You expect to fail.” The words surprised me.

I felt the pull of energy in my arms, the soreness still there but fading under concentration. I countered with a light jab toward his shoulder. He blocked, shifting his weight quickly, and tried a sweep at my legs. I jumped back, landing with balanced feet. The boys around the edge leaned in, watching. Jace murmured to Darin, “She’s fast.” Darin shrugged but didn’t take his eyes off us. Kellan feinted to my right, then lunged forward. I caught his wrist, twisting slightly, then released and stepped back. “Focus your arms, not just legs,” I said, barely loud enough for him to hear. He grunted and adjusted stance.

Go. The first warrior attacked. Kael dodged like he was made of water, his counterattack exact. I heard a sickening crack as his fist hit the guy's jaw, and he went down hard. Another one came at him, clawing out, but Kael caught him in the air, twisted him around, and slammed him into the ground. It was rough. It was fast. And it wasn't going to be over soon. Three more closed in on him. Blades flashed in the sun. Kael ducked and swept a leg out from under one while grabbing another's wrist and twisting until something broke. He moved smoothly, like he'd been doing this forever.

This is what Bill trained me for, what all those hours of drills and sparring were leading to. Kevin lunges with the knife, and I shift back, narrowly avoiding the blade as it slices through the air. I keep moving, staying light on my feet, watching his every move. The stakes are higher now, but I won’t let him win. I won’t let him take anything else from me.