Sword In Heart Novels & Stories

They could not understand how Lucas could still be so arrogant after showing up in the Heartless Mountain. "Kill this brat!" As someone finished speaking, hundreds of people all surrounded Lucas. Hester was a bit shocked. After all, there were so many people. "Clang!" In an instant, there was a flash of lightning in the square. The sounds of sword vibrating and dragon roars rang in everyone's ears as a five-clawed blood dragon coiled above Lucas' head. "Whoosh!" Lucas slashed with his sword. A supreme sword light flew out from the Immemorial Dragon Sword.

I need my sword. Reaching behind my back, I feel the cool, smooth texture of my marking shift beneath my fingers. There’s a brief moment where the ink pulses, almost as if it’s alive, before it solidifies into the hilt of my sword. I draw it out, feeling the familiar weight settle into my hand. The blade hums with energy, a glowing blue that pulses in time with my heartbeat. This sword is mine, a part of me, born of my blood and soul. Athena’s gift, forged from my very essence.

Aisha and the rest of the Heroes visited the forge of earthly flame as the doors opened for the first time in months. Berfoment emerged from the forge with a massive Greatsword with strange runic markings etched into the body of the blade. Aisha noticed that the sword emits a powerful life aura as if the blade itself was alive while Yuuno stated the blade generated spiritual energy if given a chance Berfomet’s sword could easily destroy any spirit it might come into contact. “With this, we now have a proper weapon. Though without a heart you will serve a purpose for a time Kent once we return to New Dawn, A heart must be born to match the blade’s power..” Berfomet smiled.

He gets to his feet standing over her, the tilt of the sword is pointed towards her heart in both hands-on grips, he plunges the blade into her rib cage. She gasped for air. The sound of a sword being drawn from a scabbard signaled her end. Something about his eyes captured my attention, his eyes informed me of a story no voice had ever dared to tell. His blade found a sanctuary in my rib cage, urging its way into my precious heart. I didn't utter nor attempt to scream, for my sorrow is beyond me. The agony was unbearable, raising, and shattered me.

Stephanie growled, her eyes wild, and the sword she held shot out toward him, aiming straight for his chest. I braced myself for him to twist away, to dodge with the speed of a shadow. But instead, he propelled himself forward, meeting the blade head-on, allowing it to drive straight through his chest. The sword plunged into him with a sickening force, the tip sinking deep into the place where his heart should have been.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” I felt tears welling in my eyes. Fear slowly takes over my being. I’m finding it hard to breathe little by little. “Please believe me,” I gasped, trembling. His nails dug into my skin and he asked again, “Do you really want to test my thinning patience?” The blade of the knife he was holding was cold on my skin when he pressed it on my neck. That knife was dull, it could barely cut through my bread, but right now, in his hands, it feels like he could slice me as easily as butter.

The realization disarmed her more effectively than any feint. She released the sword, taking a step back. "Then we understand each other," she said, her voice losing its edge. "You see a weapon. I see a cage. We're both prisoners of this... purpose." He held the practice sword, looking momentarily wrong-footed by her retreat. He studied the crude blade, then her face. The anger seemed to drain from him, leaving a weary, cold curiosity. "What are you, really? A spy for your father? A trained assassin sent to unsettle the court?"

Andy’ POV With every step I took, the pain in my heart grew. It was like a fire, burning and consuming me from the inside out. It made my chest ache and made it hard to breathe. The tears that had been pooling in my eyes began to spill over, running down my cheeks. I couldn't stop them; I couldn't even try. I was beyond caring, beyond feeling. I just wanted the pain to end; it seemed like I was swallowed up by the darkness that surrounded me.

When it reached about ten feet from him, the thing leaped, front legs ripping at the air as it came for him. Vanadine released the pressure in his left hand, bathing the syphia’s head and face in orange flame as he swung the machete as hard as he could. Whatever part of the creature it hit was like hammering against stone and Vanadine felt a shock run up his arm, almost losing his grip on the weapon. He backed away as the syphia screamed and rolled, trying to extinguish the flames. The stench of burning hair filled the air as greasy, slate grey smoke issued forth. With the syphia now between him and the pile of corpses, Vanadine backing away and the damage the creature had suffered, Vanadine

Arthur roars, shaking him violently. Madin stares at him, too shocked to respond. “I hate you,” Arthur hisses, his voice trembling with fury. “I hate you so much. Tonight, I’m going to end your miserable life.” Arthur draws his sword, raising it high. But as the blade hovers above Madin’s chest, Arthur feels a sharp, stabbing pain in his own chest. The sensation is so intense, it forces him to drop the weapon. Arthur clutches his chest, gasping for breath. The pain feels like a physical manifestation of his heartbreak, as if the sword he intended for Madin has turned against him.