Spirit Swords Novels & Stories

I'm at peace with our decision but I hate seeing my friends suffer. "Damn you, take me!" I yell to the sky. Magic bursts behind me but I don't look back. Lightning strikes again and hits Ashrac. His body is tossed high and I have hope that the Goddess has taken our offer and will save him. His dragon explodes from his human body with a burst of light that's impossible to look at. "Ahhhh, hell," screams Sarn and the magic behind me bursts again. I dare to glance back. Sierra and Sarn are the most incredibly brilliant purple dragons. "What the hell," I mutter.

"You are not doing this. Not a love triangle. Not now— not when the man who calls himself your father had your mother killed." The tears came before I could stop them, hot and furious, blurring the tree line as I ran. I didn't slow down. I didn't want to. Somewhere between one stride and the next, I shifted, fur replacing skin, four legs eating the ground faster than two ever could. *Sylvester. Draken. Kael.* Three names, three reasons to stay soft, and I couldn't afford soft. Not anymore. "It's time we part ways," I told the wind, the trees, whoever was listening. "I came here a warrior. I'm leaving as one."

On the pavilion floor lay a sword carved with a dragon, and standing on it was the man who had shouted. He stooped slightly, breath ragged; his eyes were bloodshot, bulging as if they might pop from their sockets. Through gritted teeth he thought, 'Xiu Jian is a damned wretch! I can’t even burn his sword!' Indeed, the trembling, furious man was Huang Fu, and the blade beneath his boot was the Sacred Dragon Sword. He had tried to set the sword aflame—yet not only did the flames refuse to take, the fuel he poured seemed to be absorbed and vanished, drying as if swallowed by the metal itself.

After a while, Leslie stretched and yawned, feeling the weight of sleep. ​"Hey, I'm tired. Let’s go back, it’s really late," Leslie suggested. ​"You go ahead," Scarlett replied firmly. "I’ll head back later. I just want to stay a bit longer." ​Leslie looked at her with a mix of worry and resignation, but finally nodded and began walking back to camp. Scarlett was left alone by the lake, unaware that she was being watched from the other side of the water. ​Across the lake, Zafira and her sister Zahia—two gorgons, women with serpent tails instead of legs—hid in the shadows. Zafira, her serpentine body coiling around itself, watched Scarlett with a mix of surprise and overflowing rage.

The familiar weight settled into his grip like an old companion. For a moment he stood perfectly still, letting the quiet settle around him. Then he began. The blade moved through the air in slow, controlled arcs. Steel cut through the morning mist. Again. Again. Again. Each motion was deliberate. Measured. His breathing fell naturally into rhythm with the movement of the sword. Training had always been the only place where Adrian’s mind truly quieted. The past faded. The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background.

"What the- what is this?" Minos yelled. He looked over to Rei, whose hands were now holding on to the handle of the sword hanging on his belt. "Hold it." Cassana snapped. A faint yellow light now emanates from the gem. A floating luminous circle, humming and riddled with runes, was hovering above it. The same identical circle was also wrapped around Rei's right arm. As Cassana pulled the staff lower, the circle around Rei became tighter. "A sorcerer!" Minos, again stating the obvious.

That his body wears out quickly and that there is no remedy for the evil that afflicts him. I move my hand a short distance over his body without touching him, checking his critical status with my senses. — It is not your body that has been poisoned, my Lord. It is your spirit. It’s been poisoned by your lust for power. Your body and your spirit fight and the latter has begun to leave the world of the living, that is why you struggle between the flames of the Underworld and the calm waters of the Elysium. —I can't die now. Damn it! I still have a lot to do. - He mutters, grinding his teeth.

The sword spirit floated in the direction of those spirit bodies. Philip kept his eyes on her. His relationship with the sword spirit was not built in a day or two. He refused to believe that the sword spirit would abandon him. The gravity seemed to isolate the water flow. Although Philip felt as if he was caught in a swamp, energy burst from his body. He jerked one foot out, followed by the other. His movements seemed to slow down several times. His hand reached out to the sword spirit.

Following then, the roar of a dragon and the sword was heard, and a scary five-clawed bloody dragon was hovering above Lucas’ head. The Immemorial Dragon Sword appeared in Lucas’ hand. Swoosh! Lucas slashed it with a sword. In just a split second, a top-notched sword ray shot toward the evil spirit. In the blink of an eye, all the evil spirits had vanished into thin air. “How is this possible?” The Rank 2 Celestial Honorable Spirit family widened his eyes as he could not believe that was the truth. Lucas’ face was remaining as it was as he glanced at the Rank 2 Celestial Honorable Spirit family faintly, and slowly said, “How can a Dark Race like you change? Perhaps only in death.”

My fingers are on my chin as I crouched and looked at it. The cover or the sheath was silver with a few pints of gold, I don't understand the engravings etched on it. Because of my curiosity, I held it and released it from its sheath. Unlike other sword, its blade was bluish and silver, the handle was wood in color and the cover was glass. It was not as heavy as it look. I lifted it up and swayed it... Imagining I was a samurai fighting some bad guys. I chuckled.