Stilettos Sword Novels & Stories

Estelle led Lucas and Nicholas to Azure Wing Forest. "Senior, this is the Azure Winged Viper Dark Racer's territory." Lucas looked dull. He took out the Immemorial Dragon Sword Embryo from the System Space. Nicholas and Estelle looked at the Immemorial Dragon Sword in Lucas' hands, feeling dumbfounded. "Well..." Because the Immemorial Dragon Sword in Lucas' hands was the most strong and capable sword that they'd seen since their birth.

Ashford stopped and watched Monsell. "Swords have no effect on me." Monsell boasted. Ashford grinned. "What about silver swords?" A blood-curdling shriek tore through the air as Monsell recoiled, his body convulsing with pain. The sound was gut-wrenching, a testament to the agony he felt as the silver sword pierced his dark essence.

They connected with each other and formed a potent formation. Boom! The terrifying sword attack clashed with the Infinity Steles’ formation.

Not Silas. This sword is not quite mini. I dragged mine across the floor, lifting it just enough so it didn't make a horrible noise. I finally reach him with the heavy sword and look at it. The sword is pretty basic. The silver hilt is cold metal with no grip, and I glance at Silas's sword which has a leather hilt, no doubt making it easier to hold. I wonder if he purposely gave me the bad sword that actually looks broken and difficult to use. I wouldn't be surprised.

I reached into the stash and retrieved my weapons. If the plan worked properly, then there would be a lot of fighting. I was grateful for the time I had to prepare myself now. I never took killing others lightly, but I never hesitated when the need arose. My hands were covered in bandages, as always, but I hadn’t been wearing my gloves. I usually took them off when I wasn’t active. I put them on now. I pulled my sword from the sheath. The silver blade shone in the sunset. I traced the edge with my glove. It was sharp. The sword was made from a special silver alloy developed by the church.

It smelled of damp stone, old hay, and solitude. Makil was already there, warming up with a series of fluid stretches that further betrayed his training. He wore similar clothes to yesterday, and two practice longswords were thrust into the ground at the center of the yard. Leigh arrived silently, a shadow detaching from the deeper shadows of the archway. She'd re-braided her hair tightly. She said nothing, simply walked to the center, pulled one sword from the earth, and tested its weight. "No rules," Makil said, pulling the other. "First to yield, or be disarmed."

A crest gleamed on his chest plate: the Moonveil Citadel emblem, a silver wolf's head wreathed in thorns, symbol of an ancient order long whispered in legends. In his grip, he wielded a sword that sang of forgotten forges—a massive greatsword with a blade as long as a man's arm, etched with glowing runes that pulsed like veins of starlight. The hilt wrapped in blackened leather, guarded by a crossbar shaped like crossed fangs, it hummed with arcane power, cleaving through monster hides as if they were parchment. Each swing arced with devastating force, severing limbs and heads in sprays of dark ichor, the warrior pivoting seamlessly, boots sinking into the mire without falter. He fought alon

The others also saw clearly that Felix was standing there, unmoved. "Go ahead. He has been hit by my Moon Strike. He no longer has the energy to block other attacks." Then, a sudden sound of something tearing through the air sounded. In the next moment, a sword landed between them and Felix. The sword was sharp on both edges. It was silver and crescent-shaped. It swayed gently back and forth, following the wind.

“Well, I should be the one that you’ll train, not her.” “Yeah, you know how to wield a sword,” Sylvester said. “Alright, have a break.” Sylvester walked toward the swords and picked on them. “We’ll use blades.” He weighed the swords with his hands. “I think this is as light as the sword you have.” He tossed it to her as Paxton held it. “Darling, go by the corner.” Sylvester pointed to the very corner as she rolled her eyes and obeyed him. She watched as the two spar and Sylvester would spank Paxton in the butt by the flat surface of the sword.

Amazingly, the tip of the sword looked even shinier than it was. "I realized that this sword is the most suitable if you have it." "Do you think so?" “This sword is called The Twinster, from the fairy tale of the Little Knight. It belonged to a young knight the same age as you, named Gerald. The knight was too small to go to war, but his passion and courage were not inferior to other knights. He always insisted on joining the battle, so the other knights agreed to have the blacksmith make a special pair of swords. Not too big, but too small for an ordinary knight to use. In short, it can only be used by Gerald.”