Swordmaster Novels & Stories

He no longer knew right from wrong, and worst of all, his one bite could make another just as mad as him. “Beasty, I would like that weapon now.” Sure, my precious master. Just channel me through your magic. I did as I was told and channelled Ambisose through my magic. A sword appeared in my mindscape—a deadly beauty in sight. Three feet long, basket-hilted with sapphires and emeralds on its hilt, a schiavona sword with sharp double-edged blades which had the deadly aura, but somehow it felt safe to me. I reached out to hold its hilt. A flash filled my mindscape, and everything went white as soon as I held the sword in my hand. I didn't even realise that I had completely shifted into my mind

Edgar swung his sword from an unexpected angle, aiming to break through Adrian’s defenses. Adrian sneered and said, "You must have a death wish!" Suddenly, a sword energy appeared in Adrian’s hand, transforming into a radiant arc that shot forward and tore through everything in its path. "What kind of sword technique is this?" Edgar was taken aback, his gaze filled with disbelief as he watched Adrian unleash a technique he couldn’t fully comprehend. He forced himself to calm down and said, "No matter how clever your techniques, I’ll still kill you!" With that, he swung his sword again, and this time, he believed that he'd land a fatal blow. However, Adrian remained standing calmly. He releas

Platinum that fit her finger perfectly, with a one carat teal gemstone sitting atop. Tears spilled down her cheeks as Drago rose from his knees. He gently cupped the back of her neck, pulling her into a deep,passionate kiss.

Eryndor's Shadowing dagger seemed to dance in the moonlight, its dark blade slicing through the air with a haunting screee-ksss. Each strike landed with a thud-thwack-thoom, sending tremors through the troop's warriors. The troop's hearts raced as the violent zing-ting-zap of clashing daggers filled the field. The savages of warriors, fueled by fury and loyalty, clashed in a frenzy of arms and teeth. The ground grew slick with blood, the earthy smell mingling with the metallic tang of steel. Jack Wolf stood firm, his Moon-whisper spear shining with a soft, ethereal light. He parried Eryndor's strikes with a precision born of desperation, his movements a blur of speed and strength.

"Let's find you a more worthy opponent this time. Sigurd!" The giant slowly made his way to stand in front of Brand, his great longsword held loosely in his massive hand. The newcomer took up his own blade and nodded once. Rather than striking immediately, the two large men circled each other taking each other's measure. Sigurd tired of the waiting first and struck a blow. Brand seemed to parry it easily, but from that moment, the fight was on.

I swallowed, letting the tension slip slightly from my shoulders. I couldn’t stop myself from watching him, either. The way he moved was effortless, controlled. He didn’t just lean on the counter—he owned the space, like it belonged to him. And in a room full of chaos, he was calm. Always calm. Always aware. Watching him made me wonder how much of him was armor and how much was the real person.

Exactly as seen earlier in the castle. The sword. “What does that one do?” I asked, pointing to it. “It drinks blood. For anyone it kills, their blood is stored in the blade. You would try to always have a clothing between you and the hilt” That did not sound more beneficial than fairy dust. “So how useful would it be to protect me?” With only a smile, “very” Time to close the deal. “I have one silver coin” playing with the coins against my fingers. “Make it three and we have a deal”

Resting on his hip was a single, long Nodachi a curved greatsword. "You bring the filth of the crust into the heavens, Anomalies," the Shogun’s voice resonated, smooth and perfectly synthesized, echoing off the invisible atmospheric dome above them. "You shattered the Marianas with brute force. You cracked my floorboards with reckless momentum. But you cannot outrun precision."

I huffed and walked two spaces away. A glint caught my eye, high on the far wall hung a single sword no one had touched… sleek, curved blade, Japanese in style, deadly elegant. I crossed to it and picked it up letting my fingers glide on the blades sharp edge, it sliced through my skin drawing blood. I gasped, eyes widening in shock at its sharpness as I sucked the blood off my finger.“Majestic isn’t it? the katana” Smith strolled to stand beside me“Is that what it’s called?” I pulled my finger out of my mouth not really paying attention to him and just like I expected, the skin had knitted back together. I healed faster than a normal wolf. Always had.

He braved a step forward, then pulled out the sword on his waist and demanded, “Who are you?!” “Who am I?” The swordsman’s face was ice cold. He wiped his blade with his sleeve and replied calmly, “I am Kaito Yamaguchi of the Shindan Way. Mr. Josh has done me a great favor.” “I will kill you for murdering his entire family today, Harvey York!” “Do you have the courage to fight back?!” “Kaito Yamaguchi?!” Tyson’s expression changed frantically. “The curator of Mordu’s Shindan Way Kendo Hall?!”