Solo Leveling Knives Novels & Stories

The latter returned the knife he was holding back into the drawer and looked at him in question. "To be honest, I thought you were going to pick these up first," Enzo stated. Dylan held them both with each hand. He almost gasped at how perfect they fit in his palms. "You're not good at wielding blades but your level of expertise in combat gives you an advantage. So, I thought those would be ideal for your attack patterns." He chuckled and flipped them without hesitation this time. How they balanced in his grip made him fearless in handling them. It was as if they were extensions of his own hand. "How do you know me so well?"

I will not forgive myself if he has bad things. Elias wanted one punch to end the fight, but Lorne did a flip on the ground and jumped up. His speed was twice as fast as before; from inside his belt, he took out two specially designed knives. The shape is strange but extremely sharp; even a few hundred meters away, I can still see the blade glowing.

Joe gestured to the table containing the knives, and we nodded, signaling for him to continue. “Alright, so, you are going to want to hold the kn*fe by the blade at the balance point. Pinch it between your fingers, with the blade pointing upwards. Now, tilt it back slightly, and push your arm towards the target. Release the knife as soon as your arm is fully extended, and make sure to snap your wrist as you do so.” He showed us how to do it slowly as he spoke, and then proceeded to do it so fast that it barely looked like what he had described. The knife travelled so fast that you would miss it if you were not looking directly at it, and it pierced the target. We stared in amazement for a c

“For our leader.” Alex exhales slowly. “I didn’t ask to—” “We know,” Eve says. “That’s why they’re yours.” Mazikene unwraps the cloth. The blades catch the early light immediately. They’re a matched pair—slightly curved, long enough to demand respect but not so heavy they’d slow her. The steel is darkened, patterned subtly, like smoke trapped beneath the surface. The hilts are wrapped in deep red leather, worn in just enough places to suggest they were meant to be held, not displayed.

His chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his face slack and peaceful in a way that seemed almost innocent. Evan crept forward, his movements slow and deliberate. The tool Kade had given him was pressed against his palm, small and cold and reassuring. A thin blade designed specifically for slicing through chains and cords without making a sound. Evan had practiced with it for hours in the penthouse, learning the precise angle and pressure needed to cut through metal cleanly. He had run through the motion a hundred times, memorizing the feel of the blade in his hand.

Brutal, effective, designed to take on multiple opponents and survive, if somewhat worse for wear. Also he gave me a knife, which seemed irresponsible even to me, a violent juvenile delinquent. It wasn't l like a Bowie knife either, or a survival knife. It was straight, double-edged, with a wickedly sharp point. He called it a "Fairbarn". Later I'd learn that the skills he taught me dated back to world war two. I've never been able to get Billy to tell me where he learned it.

All types of specially made knives were displayed and arranged perfectly before him, from fixation Bowies, authentic katanas, bolos, Gerber, and. Ah, this one. He slowly raised his glinting Obsidian knives. The thinnest blades one could ever find were three nanometres wide at the edge – 10 times sharper than a razor blade. These were made by flaking a long, thin sliver from a core of the volcanic glass. This was perfect! "Prepare him." He instructed without turning his head, knowing his men will know what to do. He critically examined each piece to make sure it will work on the flesh like butter.

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.

He stays put. Greg hands me the box, practically vibrating with anticipation. The knives are nestled in velvet, gleaming in the firelight. Of course, he went all out. I lift one, testing its weight. The balance is exquisite, better suited to my hands than the heavy Academy blades clearly designed for men. They practically hum against my palms, familiar and deadly. I step into position, six meters out. I could go further, but for this kind of precision, I want control. My breath steadies, the blade cool against my fingers. One flip, then another, testing the feel. Then I throw.

"It's just a knife, isn't it?" "No! There are different types of knives. There's the bread knife which is this one," He brought out the knife and showed it to me. "It has a serrated blade and it's majorly used for slicing bread. Here's the chef's knife for breaking down chickens or cutting onions or maybe fingers," I laughed. He dropped the knife back into the sink where he's dropped it earlier. "Here's the cleaver, I only use it on rare occasions, and lastly, Nakiri Knife, my favorite. You can use it to cut any vegetables or carrots. It's kind of multipurpose for me,"