Six Blades Jiu-jitsu Novels & Stories

Gabi commanded. “I… I… want to… talk to… Antony.” She stuttered out before focusing back on the wall instead of Gabi. “Shit. I don’t know how she is doing it. But she is ignoring the command. Levi, use your spiral knife. Left thigh.” Gabi said nodding to me. Sighing, I looked at my bag and pulled out one of my favorite knives. It was a 10’ long spiral Damascus steel blade that could wreak havoc on a body. It hurt like hell going into the body, but hurt a great deal more coming out.

Reid voice billows. E.J who heard it instantly did the move. "Lithious Imperious" thousands of swords suddenly appeared around E.J which was wrapped in ki. Suddenly, E.J raised his right hand and the blades around him followed his comand. The blades flew quickly to the enemies as its struck them down. Dust of smoke formed inside the Celious vizar. Nathan already saw this attack that happened almost more than a month ago. The same techniqued he uses to those ten notorious men.

The blade sliced into him like cutting through softened butter. ‘Ouch. Sounded like that hurt him if his prepubescent girly scream was any indication,’ Zeus said snorting. I would have to agree with my wolf on that one for certain. My body jumped backwards, giving me enough room to get my staff into proper rotation. The reason that I chose this as my weapon to specialize in was because of its versatility. It did not matter which end hit your opponent because both would do equal damage. Once you got it into rotation, it became a spinning wheel of doom. If you wanted two weapons, then you could unfasten them, giving you dual blades.

The moment he changed direction, the blade bit into flesh—his long knife had cleaved the suicide soldier's head clean off. She had predicted the direction of his blade. Impossible! This couldn't be real! His technique, Phantom Blade, was a series of deceptive moves with over a dozen variations. It was a martial arts masterpiece. In Westhaven, no one had ever escaped its reach. Obviously, no one had ever predicted the direction of his blade either.

Casius looked at Jude with a smile. He trusted that Jude would make the right call. Sure enough, Jude took a moment to grimace before gritting his teeth. With a decision made, he turned to the Ryokanian. “Mr. Sho, can you promise to give me the win?” Casius grinned. “You should know the Refined Blade’s ranking in Ryokan. They dominated the art of self-defense in the country. “Rio is one of the Refined Blade’s top ten fighters.

“I’m Julius. This is Liam and Mark. We’ll be your opponents since you fools thought you could just walk in and win.” He says it like we’re already buried. I take a long drag of my cigar, blow the smoke right in his smug face, then toss it to the floor. “I don’t need introductions.” I crack my neck left, then right. “I need blood.” I toss my gun aside, unsheathing my twin blades, forged with wolfsbane and reinforced silver. The blades hum. “Let’s dance, assholes.” They move like lightning. Julius lunges for me—fangs bared, claws slicing through the air. I twist, barely dodging as he rakes a claw across my chest armor. The metal screeches in protest but holds. Bastard has strength.

The male doesn't even realize he's doing it, getting comfortable with us. Ransom finishes tightening the final bracket and steps back from the workbench. “There.” He wipes soot from his hands and motions me forward. “Come on. Let's see if these fit.” I move toward him looking at his work up close. The claw blades are impressive. Curved steel extensions designed to fit over a shifter's natural claws. I didn't know what to expect but it wasn't this. The style will fit seamlessly into our style and fighting techniques making it each to incorporate our new advantage into what we already know.

That is why it works. It moves to intercept the clean throw that is not coming. The ugly throw takes it through the inside of the thigh. I move. Low. No flare. No grand burn. Just knees, hips, knife. My shoulder hits the first clone under the ribs. It is heavier than me and wrong under the skin. I drive the Phantom Blade into the tendon above its knee and twist. It does not scream. It drops. Sarah rips free with blood on her mouth that is not hers.

The absolute audacity of him trapping me here, ambushing me in the dark and treating me like a fleeing prisoner, utterly destroyed the last shred of my restraint. "Son of a bitch," I hissed under my breath. With two fluid, lightning-fast sweeps of my hands, I drew my twin silver blades from my thigh sheaths. The metallic shhhhk of the steel slicing through the quiet night air was crisp and deadly. I raised the blades, dropping into a lethal, inverted combat stance, fully prepared to bathe this courtyard in blood for my freedom.

The master officiating the match called for it to begin. Immediately Nila sprung from a ready stance into Sparrow Through The Brush, she flitted back and forth stabbing with her thin rapier. Fur blocked each stab with Falcon On The Wind, a form normally used for fighting an opponent using a sword with a single edge. He struck back with Tiger Jumps Its Prey, a huge over hand blow that Nila side-stepped. That move would have sheared her and her thin blade completely in half. Nila was wide eyed now, she was completely out classed and she knew it. The fear left her eyes again, replaced by resolve and anger. Boro's fear only increased.