Novel & Cerita Swordmaster Youngest Son

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.

“Very well, let’s see how terrible you all are today.” After his initial hesitancy, his cheeks coloring and his eyes locked to the sword master whilst he learned the routine, the sliding step from one posture to another, the position of sword and arms combined with the set of feet, Aien was not terrible. Luckily, a new recruit was far, far worse. A muscled younger son, the young man had received training before coming to the academy, and seemed determined to show that training off, even when it ran contrary to the sword master’s instructions resulting in an altercation between the two, and mockery from the on-watchers.

Before long, they were all dead. "Why is it that the youngest, if he's going crazy and he has more wounds, can still move fast and not faint, like he's bleeding out or dying?" Levino was annoyed by the youngest's immunity. "I don't know; after all, what we received from our father is much different from that of the youngest. Did you forget? Father wants to make the youngest his weapon; we're just the controllers." Levino clucked and dodged at the same time. This was because Lexio was getting crazier and had almost managed to behead him with the sword he had stolen some time ago. scorching the mafia that pitted them against each other.

“Any background information about the blue-eyed kid?” “We've got some information which he submitted on the tournament registration. His name is Arth, and it turns out, he’s from Frostwood village.” Kael nodded as he turned the pages on the folder. He had heard that name when he watched the tournament. "And the other one?" “We couldn’t identify the name of the other swordsman, Sir Kael, the one who had dark skin and hazel eyes. But one of our knights have recognized him,” Grand Knight Simon replied. “He’s the only son of Gregor Doran, the Chief of Frostwood Village.”

Swoosh— Just as they spoke, a dark figure with an overwhelming aura suddenly dashed out from the entrance like a flying bat. Bang! Smack! Boom! With just a slight effort, Noir and the others were sent retreating by over a dozen steps. They barely managed to regain their footing, but their bodies continued to wobble. In contrast, the figure dressed in a white robe stood coolly in front of the three Swallow family martial realm experts. He fanned himself with a folding fan, exuding an aura of arrogance. He was the Young Master the three mentioned, a legitimate heir of the Swallows, Osian Swallow!

The lava light had licked up the walls behind them, red and hungry, turning their faces into masks carved from ember and restraint. From his youngest son. Nine hundred years ago, he had sent his youngest son, Caelum, into the palace, not as a sacrifice, but as an extension of will. He remembered the moment with an unwelcome clarity: the smell of scorched stone at the Nether’s edge, the way Caelum’s shoulders had stayed level even as the dark yawned behind him, the way a boy’s breath had sounded too steady because he’d learned early that trembling invited predators. His eldest son, Dravenor, had always been the blade at his right hand, bold and unyielding, the kind of fire that flared with co

It was quiet for a moment. Then, the man burst into shrill, deranged laughter. “What a joke! You’re the son of the owners of this place? If you are, then I’m the king of the world!” The man laughed so hard that he was shaking all over. He pointed a finger at me and said, “Listen, punk, you shouldn’t mess around so much. Although I’ve never met the guy, Professor Corleone told me her son is a king among men. He’s studying abroad! He doesn’t wear no-name trash like you! I’ve met a lot of your kind. You think you can pretend to be rich and powerful just because you’re not as good as others. Do you really think that will get you anywhere?”

Her steps retaliated, "how sometimes I don't have to do anything to created chaos. It's like it has a mind of its own and speaks when it sees fit." "So," he said plastering a familiar grin on his face, "what do I do for you little sinner?" Sonny cringed internally at the name. She still hadn't been able to wrap her mind around why the name didn't sit well with her, "I need you to help me find someone," The devil smirked, "The one that stabbed you!". Her brows furrowed in confusion, "How do you know that?" "Because you shall not harm her- not yet!!!"

I had firmly resolved not to help him again, but when I saw him lying pale on the cold hospital bed, my heart still softened. He was my flesh and blood and the son I had raised and protected with Celia, after all. But every time I softened, his malice escalated. This time, after he had thrown himself off a four-story building right before my eyes, I had sworn never to soften or give in to him again. Murmurs from the crowd grew louder. The onlookers had eyes full of shock, and several middle-aged women even covered their mouths in sheer pain. "Oh gosh! This son came into the world just to collect debts from his parents. All he does is take everything they have and still acts so entitled. He's

He paused, shifting his attention towards the young man before he continued, “He is your cousin.” A faint smile appeared on Mario's face as he looked over at Josh. "Nice to meet you….son of a traitor," he said, his words laced with disdain, and as the sentence concluded, the initial warmth faded from his expression, replaced by a darker look, filled with hatred.