Sword Wielder Novels & Stories

That would make it even more precious. Wuhlricht turned around, looked at Severin with a slightly complicated expression, and said, "See you in a year!" He then flew straight forward and disappeared into the night. "I'm still shocked that this a flying sword! Haha! This is great!" After Wuhlricht left, Severin waved his palm and took out the flying sword again. He placed a drop of his blood on it to let it know that he was its owner, and he soon learned its name—the Blood Fiend Sword. It was a name full of character and domineeringness.

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

She faintly felt that the sword was slowly getting her powers and she smirked at how cunning the sword is. She pointed at the sword and giggled. She didn’t expect the sword to be that shameless. “Leen, have you seen a shameless sword before?” The sword flinched and Lixien curved up her lips. The sword can even understand what she says. Leen blinked her eyes and tilted her head. ‘How can a sword be shameless?’ There was also a rumor that the sword has a guardian who wears a white customized clothes. What can that mean except that the sword is a man itself? The sword slightly moved forward.

Caleb's eyes flashed like a sword's age while his aura intensified with a rumble. He glanced at his black greatsword which was inscribed with the words Dharmic Cutter! Sil Crawford had given it to him when he left Calebton, and Sil told him to wield it only after the Guardian couldn't be wielded anymore. And just before, Shar's Rain of Swords shattered the Guardian, so he took out the Dharmic Cutter! "This really suits me, Elder Sil… You really know me best!" Caleb growled under his breath and slashed forward!

Runes ran along the hilt—half flame, half crescent—and the metal pulsed like it was alive. Racheal stepped closer. The blade sang to her blood. “You feel it, don’t you?” Myra whispered. “It was made for you.” Racheal reached out, fingers hovering over the hilt. “What is it?” Myra exhaled slowly. “It’s called Ashweaver. A soulbound blade. Forged at the end of the Flame Wars by a rogue godsmith. It can kill a vessel of divine blood… but only if wielded by one who shares that blood.”

"Clan Sköll? Det er ikke mulig. Sköll-klanen forsvant i min fars tid. (That's not possible. The Sköll Clan disappeared in my father's time.)" The sword disappeared from his neck as did the boots from his back. Taking these actions as permission, Brand slowly turned over and sat up. He first saw the large warrior draped in multiple furs and with an ax in his hand and a longsword strapped to his back. The man's black eyes bore into his, daring him to make one wrong move so he could play with his favorite toy and remove Brand's heart from his chest with it.

“Why? I mean… “That’s not important now” I cut her off, “what’s important is getting used to the sword and learning how to wield it. First of all, to wield a weapon, you need to let go of every turmoil in your mind and become one with it. Gather all your energy from within and you won’t even feel the weight of the sword. Do you understand?” “Hmm” she nods. “Good” Pulling out my sword, I make for her. “Slowly but steadily, try to recognize the sword as your only friend and ally in battle, it is the only thing that can save you. It either saves you or it kills you, you make a choice”

He swung his sword in one fluid motion. Steel collided with steel, and a sharp metallic screech echoed as sparks flew. A lifeless body tumbled over the edge, plunging into the abyss below. It had been a martial god in black robes. He was rather skilled yet unable to withstand the ferocity of Chase's sword. "This sword… Its edge is extraordinary," Chase murmured while narrowing his eyes. The blade radiated a concentrated martial deity aura, interwoven with pure, crackling lightning energy. It was clearly a high-grade spiritual weapon.

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.

unsheathing is a skill which kills at lightening speed, a fast one-hit kill, suitable for people who possess a sword spirit". "Sword unsheathing", Jae Lee woo stopped moving, it seemed that the use of that sword was different from that of other swords. Traditionally, what swordsmen liked the less was the moment of unsheathing a sword because it is a critical moment during which a certain amount of time is lost and thus delays the moment when the attack can be carried out. Nevertheless, sword unsheathing was a skill made to kill people. Unsheathing the sword had killing for its sole purpose. The most powerful moment of that skill was unsheathing the sword and striking with one movement, if