Sword Art Online Progressive Light Novels Novels & Stories

But Luna's unwavering determination never wavered, and they pressed on. Suddenly, they came upon a massive chamber, its walls adorned with intricate symbols and ancient markings. In the center of the room, atop a stone pedestal, lay a majestic sword, pulsating with raw energy. Luna's eyes widened with recognition. "The Sword of Light," she whispered. "Legend has it that this ancient artifact has the power to banish darkness." Amelia approached the sword cautiously, her hands trembling with anticipation. As she reached out to touch it, the room rumbled once more, causing debris to fall around them.

Shawn vowed to kill everyone! “How dare you?!” Shawn was so angry that his whole body was shaking. A sword appeared in his hand. Waves of sword energy attacked Philip while everyone went running. This guy was getting serious. Philip stood motionless amidst the sword energy. He raised his chin slightly and sneered mockingly. Philip waved his hand. With a roar, lightning struck, neutralizing the sword energy. Thunderstorms raged throughout the Oncidium Guild, making it difficult for everyone to open their eyes.

The war raged on, a battle of power and soul, each stroke striking like a crescendo amid the storm. My trembling palm clutched Xavier's sword, a relic of power that pulsed with an energy I didn't understand. The blade became an extension of my will as the Demon leaped at me with murderous intent. The sword clashed with its opponent's blade in a dance of survival, each strike mirroring the ferocious struggle for power.

Now, only power spoke. Gloria knelt first, laying a talon-shaped blade across her knees. Its hilt was carved from bone that pulsed faintly in the darkness, like a heartbeat echoing through the ground. The air grew colder around her, coiling like serpents, and her lips moved without sound. The frost crawling along her skin wasn’t entirely natural; it was the blade calling to her, the spirits whispering their obedience.

Terra shook her head as she stared in front, then she saw him, In his glory, dark brown hair waving in the air, blades withdrawn in battle, jason, "My prince" she thought, Instead of a girl near him, it was a giant wolf, a ferocious beast that fought alongside him, it was the farang girl, Terra switched her gaze towards their enemy, he had a dark aura around him, a blade that seemed to feed on the very essence of life itself, she knew that blade, it was yetri, the fey blade!,

My fingers loosened against NightSword and it clattered away from me. Eryndor’s eyes were dilated, his canines dripping saliva as he dove for the sword, picking it up with a feral grin. He raised it above my head as I watched in horror. NO!, NightSword screamed in my head, in protest at being wielded by one not bonded to him. My ears popped and my vision was lost again as a powerful sonic blast emerged from the ancient weapon, a beam of energy spiraling outwards and slamming into Eryndor.

I rambled on. “You have the same auras but yours is brighter. Every ruler of the Underworld has to be an heir of the Light.” I understood nothing from what Mismaia told me. I know it’s probably a serious matter but I just can’t wrap my head around it. I was just cooking mini donuts and waffles like a second ago. I get minimum wage and she’s telling me I’m practically like royalty. “I wanna believe you. This is just not normal for me.” She held my hand. I swiped it away. “I’m sorry.”

But first… I need to buy something to protect myself. ”Wai, open the store. I want to buy the sacrificial sword“ [Sacrificial sword. A sword that helps the user make a blast that is 10x his normal hit. This would only happen one time for every 25 seconds. It cost 150 harto. You currently have 220 harto. Do you still want to purchase it?] Letting out a sigh, it is not as if I can go on like this without any weapon. But wait… isn't a gun more useful than a sword? I always use a sacrificial sword which is why I was so used to it. But, a sword for long-distance combat, isn't it… a little useless?

A normal night. But normal never lasts. Crow slid into the chair beside me, gray streaking his beard, eyes sharp as ever. He was one of the older ones, a man who’d seen enough wars—both on foreign soil and right here in these walls—to know when something was shifting. “She’s still here,” he said, voice low. “Yeah.” “You plan on explaining that to the boys?” I took a drag from the cigarette, exhaled slow. “No explanation needed.” Crow’s chuckle was dry. “That’s not how this place works. You know that.”