Supernatural First Blade Novels & Stories

The bloody aura was vivid, shining on their faces. A sinister atmosphere overwhelmed their hearts. Many ministers were secretly astonished, deeply shocked by Luna’s strength. In the blink of an eye, the five experts reached Luna. At that moment, fierce winds roared, and inner energy surged continuously. They were unified and all aimed at the center, targeting Luna’s vital points. Wait! However, a sudden flash of bloodlust appeared in Luna’s eyes. Crack... A sharp sound was heard, and a piercing light emanated from the Sanguis Blade as it revealed itself for the first time. Its radiance was dazzling and unique.

It was brought to me quickly, and presented in a solid silver sheath. I removed it and passed it to Atlas so he could slice the palm of his hand. He pressed the blade against his skin to make the cut, and then returned it to me. I glided the blade effortlessly over my skin, blood appearing instantly. We held each other’s cut hand, and I began to recite the words. “I Jarin, King of Werewolves, Alpha of the Imperial pack, pledge my authority and kingdom from this moment forward, to that of Atlas, Beta of the Imperial Pack.”

The thoughts… they rumble in my head that there is nothing clear I can open up. “Adira…” I twitched at the soft melodious voice that suddenly rang out in the air. My gaze then starts to meander from side to side in search of whom did that come from. “Come out who you are.” “Adira… you are the blade.” “Who are you?”

Zephyr looked at his hands and saw blood making his face contort in worry. "What weapon did she use in inflicting this on you?" Lucian asked, dead serious. Zephyr went to his table and brought out the silver dagger that Bellona had used on him. On seeing it, Lucian gasped. "A silver dagger?" He then carefully took the dagger from Zephyr and examined it. "It was enchanted by a powerful sorceress to kill werewolves especially Alpha's like yourself." At that moment, Zephyr experienced a wave of dizziness and he staggered slightly making him lean on the wall for support.

My father had told me stories about how he found a hidden cave in our backyard when he was young and stumbled upon an ancient blade that belonged to Vangoda. Had my father known this was going to be my fate? Was he the one who etched my name on the Blade? I decided to take the blade out of its case and hold it. I felt a surge of energy run through my body as soon as my fingers wrapped around the hilt. The blade was light but sturdy, made from an unknown metal that was strong enough to slice through concrete or bone with ease. I could feel its power coursing through me, the same way a soldier feels when he straps on his gun and goes to war. It was as if the blade had chosen me as much as I ha

“I’m dead serious. I’ve done all the research I can in this world and i;ve never been more certain about a thing in my life than this. Blade is a werewolf and I'm his mate. They can have human mates too.” Not only was it amusing that she knew Blade was a werewolf, it shocked me ten times more to know that she was Blade’s mate. It sent a wave of relief to know that Blade's fate was starting to come into view and he could finally see the truth and forget me. However, it didn’t stop the way my heart raced at the thought of her finding out.

And for the first time in a long time, Salvador felt truly alive. At that moment, it felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck Salvador straight through the chest. The surge of happiness he had just experienced only moments ago had turned into something entirely different—something sharp, something unexpected. His body, once strong despite his age, suddenly felt foreign to him. A strange, stabbing sensation spread through his chest, catching him off guard. His grip on the receiver tightened as his heart pounded erratically, as if it were struggling against an unseen force. The room around him began to shift, the once-stable floor beneath his feet seeming to waver. A wave of dizziness washed

He was at the Source, alone with Silas, while I was trapped in a cage match with my own past. ​"He can't hear you," the First Life whispered. She was suddenly standing inches from me, her face a mask of cold curiosity. "In this timeline, he hasn't met you yet. To him, you're just a ghost in the machine. But to me? You're a parasite." ​She raised her hand. A violet blade, sharper and more stable than mine, hummed to life. She didn't swing; she stabbed. ​I rolled to the side, the blade carving a deep trench into the stone floor where my head had been a second before. I swung my Scythe in a low arc, aiming for her legs.

I shouted. I stepped out from behind Rowan. The obsidian blade in my hand felt different now. It wasn't just a heavy piece of stone. It was light, almost weightless, and it thrummed with the soft, white light of the girl I had seen in the warehouse. It was the **Blade of the Unsaid**. Every word I had swallowed, every dream I had put aside for the sake of survival, every "I love you" that had been lost in the roar of battle—it was all there, feeding the light. Vane pivoted, his liquid form spinning like a drill. He ignored Rowan and came for me. He was fast—too fast for a human to track. He was a blur of silver and shadow.

It’s usually played in a limited space with many vertical levels that people can move around in. Well, ironically, he did end up in heaven because of that game. We believe he did hit his head on the cement enclosure around the tree but was too much of a braggart to admit that he was hurt. He could have been saved if he was just honest about how he felt. Food for thought, dear readers... And on that note, I would like to say good night and hope to see you again here at the Supernatural Spa. Fare thee well...