Skull With Sword Through It Novels & Stories

When he emerged, his face was ashen. In his hands, he carried something wrapped in rotting velvet something that caught the green light and threw it back in dull, bone-white reflections. He set it on the examination table beside me. His hands were shaking. The velvet fell away. It was a skull. Human. Male. Ancient, by the yellowing of the bone. But what made my heart stop wasn't its age, like it was the crack running from temple to jaw, and the single word carved into the forehead in jagged, deliberate strokes:

Right at this moment! An ear-piercing sword cry came from behind them. After that! Swoosh! A beam of dazzling bladed energy, which was thousands of meters long, quickly cut through the void and headed toward the skull aggressively. "Bang!" With a loud noise, the arrogant skull was smashed into countless pieces by the bladed energy. The remnant of his soul was also wiped out by the bladed energy. And then! The whole skull turned into countless black bone fragments and fell to the ground. There was no longer any threat...

The alpha landed in a sprawling heap, two of its legs detached above the knee joint. James approached the beast slowly. A pitiful whine sounded from its black lips and a heavy, panting breath filled its massive chest. He threw it one last look of disgust and contempt then brought the sword down in a high arc, just below the jawline. With a last growl of defiance, the alpha was killed, the monstrous head severed.

I will end you! {{ Soldiers come forth, hold him! his penalty is death by fortus sepri! }} his eyes widen as the soldiers step forward and hold him by the head, legs and arms {{ farewell brother mine }} the King raised his hand with his sword, just as he was about to swing Bruke raised his hand in my direction staring directly at me and I'm struck through my shoulder by what look likes a spear made of blood that shot from his hand just as the sword connects with his neck. I scream at the top of my voice and he roars with laughter followed by the sound of his head and limbs being sliced off.

He glanced back at Cassana and raised his thumb up with a facetious smile. Minos took a deep breath and plunged his sword right at the monster's heart. He pulled his blade out and waited and watched but the wound didn't heal. The monster struggled, but Cassana was making sure the plates remained impaled on his body. She drove the strips deeper until Nymgos stopped moving, and the red glow disappeared. Cassana glanced at his hand and the gemstone has completely disintegrated. "No!" She ran towards Otheric and grabbed his hand. She lifted his limp head but no light shone from his pupils. She turned his face towards her, but his eyes were staring into nothingness.

As the two Chinese death-dealers harvested their own cursed reward, I saw the ruin of the sorcerer's left ear. That was correct - someone shot Mr. Evil Tattoo-head through this skull and punched into the second man's chest from the side, piercing his heart. Yikes! Wilhelmina Tell? Then I got a clear look at the long, obsidian shaft that seemed to suck in the light and at the fletching made with oily black feathers donated from a bird that had never truly lived.

He ducked beneath the blow and drove his sword into the mark with all his strength. The animal let out a stunning shout as the sword penetrated its flesh, dim energy ejecting from the wound. The entire chamber shook as the animal whipped in anguish, its body starting to deteriorate from inside. Ethan held on, constraining the blade more profound into the wound. The creature's shouts became louder, echoing through the temple just like the cries of a dying god. At last, with one final, shivering pant, the animal collapsed to the ground, its body dissolving into a pool of dim, viscous fluid.

The expression I wore, intended as a smile, seemed to the knights and soldiers more akin to the sinister grin of a predator closing in on its prey. "Haha, of course, Baron Riel. We've got the bandit situation under control," one of the knights responded nervously, attempting to maintain a facade of confidence. I chuckled lightly in response, then swiftly lifted my sword. With a subtle gesture, I propelled the sword from my grasp, sending it slicing through the air with a gust of wind. The blade found its mark, piercing the throat of one of the vassal knights. The sword, now tainted with blood, emerged through the back of the knight's neck in a gruesome display.

The blade dragged downward, inch by inch, splitting through flesh like paper. Kade screamed. Then a steel rod was shoved through his stomach, pinning him down. He writhed, trying to pull free, blood spilling out in waves, staining the pavement. One of the masked men retrieved something long and jagged—broken rebar. With no hesitation, he plunged it through Kade’s palm and into the asphalt, crucifying his hand to the ground. Another knife pierced through the arch of his foot. Kade was barely conscious when the final blow came. One of them knelt beside him, whispered something in a language Kade didn’t understand, and then slid a blade through the base of his jaw—up, straight through his skull

He says quietly. “Have you found anything?” “No. Everything is too torn apart.” That, he is right about. The body laying in front of us is barely recognizable as a person. The hair has been plucked out of their head, there are cuts on the scalp. One cut in particular looks deep enough that you can see the skull. A reddish, almost blackish, color liquid pours out of the wound.