Sword Phighting Fanart Novels & Stories

Even if they would still respond if the master only used their energy. Rion's sword was named Zephyr. The 'gentle breeze', even though the attack was not anything gentle at all. It was always deadly, but with the minimum wound. This is how Rion could show a little compassion to those who fell as his enemies. A quick, merciful death.

Both fighters were panting and spent. “Yield!” Sasha shouted. “Enough wit’ yer bilge! I shall free yer wretched soul by th’incision o’ me steel!” Leaping off his perch into a mid-air roll, Sasha executed a two-handed sword swing that put all his body weight and momentum behind the blow. Captain Fang bent his elbow next to his head and maneuvered his upside-down sabre to protect his shoulder from Sasha’s attack. The clang that their swords made was deafening and rattled both blades.

Knights are restricted to send a purchased divine battle art to another person, not even another knight. Kalen purchased the Bullet Barrage directly, as he already had a batch of stored bullets for the divine battle art. Not only did he like its versatility, most especially, he was going to look cool using it. Aledos purchased the Berserker Battle Mode, which was also a nice divine battle art. It was one of the most used divine battle arts, it is preferred by melee fighters. Cruz purchased the Elemental Bullet Barrage. It was an unconventional divine battle art; it is just like Bullet Barrage which is preferred by ranged specialists. He chose it as he was already a ranged specialist.

They both charged forward towards him at the same time and the next second, they could not find him there again. Lucas whistled behind them and before they would look back, he hit both their bodies together and they fell. They both stood up immediately and the first guy decided to attack Lucas. If they didn’t carry out the order their master sent them, they would both be dead anyway. Gripping the knife hard, he made to stab Lucas but just in time, Lucas caught hold of his wrist and twisted it backwards at a right angle and then the wrist and arm were snapped into two. The man’s face contorted in pain and he dropped to his knees, screaming and holding his broken arm.

Those who survived moved on to attack) HAWK EYE: Sir, they are killing our men COMMANDER ARCHER: The order is to keep fighting..no retreat, no surrender, no backing down. RIVER: Shark Sabers (brought out two swords, created an ice force, freezing the warriors in front of him and he slashed them) ANYA: Spearhead (a spear appeared and she started attacking the warriors) LOGAN: Copy cats....copy me (a lot of Logan appeared and they summoned his invisible sword and they all started attacking)

A silver-trimmed cloak billowed behind her, offering an ethereal aura as she moved. Lana's eyes flickered over the arsenal of weapons laid out before her, each one meticulously chosen to aid her in the upcoming battle. A silver sword, its blade shimmering in the dim light, rested in a sheath at her side. Its hilt was adorned with intricate carvings depicting wolves in a fierce chase, symbolizing both her strength and her connection to her pack.

Within a minute there was a huge circle made, as if anticipating the upcoming battle. Stood in the centre was Alpha Wicknace, Jimmy and Julien. Jimmy was wielding a huge axe. My eyes flitted to Selene to confirm she was unhurt. Apart from looking pale and cold she was uninjured. Good. Now to focus on killing those who put in this situation.

She picked up the said deadly weapon in her hands and attacked the intruder, "DIE IN THE NAME OF THE HOLY POWER OF THE FRYING PAN" accompanied the war cry. The person swiftly turned his figure silhouetted against the light streaming from the refrigerator. His because Eira's mind registered the fact that it was a male from the build. The person tried to take on the holy power of the frying pan that Eira had now slapped onto his face. Smack. The momentum of it had him slamming against the refrigerator door. Eira again tried to attack the person but a hand flashed out in the darkness taking hold of her hand firmly

Forms blurred dance—draw, cut, sheath—bodies colliding controlled violence, each brush electric foreplay. Shoji rattled suddenly, splintering shadow-intrusion. Five figures burst ink-black—board rebels, faces twisted vendetta, tanto knives glinting malice under dojo lanterns. Leader snarled Japanese filth, blade arcing Kenji's throat. Time fractured slow-mo: his bokken snapped block, but flanking wolves lunged my blindside.

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