Swords & Potions 소설 & 이야기

A medium lengthened double H sword with a tint of white and gold appeared beside his palm, so he gripped the grip of the sword and slashed it in the air in front of him diagonally to the left. Who will win? Good or Evil ?

I hoped every tip he’d given me in training would pay off. A few minutes later, the assistant had me geared up in the custom warrior armor, fitting it perfectly. Then the announcement boomed: “Nyra Virellion versus Phaedor Soryn!” While the commentator ran through our profiles, I double-checked the potions at my waistband. We could only carry three. I skipped the strength potion too much fatigue afterward and the wit potion too, since my reflexes were already sharp. That left me with the potion of mindfulness and a healing potion. Mindfulness helped me plan my next move before I even made it, and the healing one was a lifesaver, especially without a wolf to rely on. It could bring me back to

I twisted violently and stabbed upward blind, blade sinking into its chest with a burst of light that shattered the form, but weakness flooded me completely, body heavy and slow. Potions in my pack. I fumbled for one with shaking hands, uncorking and gulping the bitter liquid that burned down my throat and ignited fire in my veins, strength returning gradual as the remaining wolves circled wary. I stood unsteady, dagger raised, and charged the closest with a yell, blade swinging in furious arcs that connected twice, draining me less now with the potion's boost. The wolf phased through one strike but solidified for the next, my thrust piercing its eye with a pop of energy that made it dissolv

“Didn’t even stir.” “Good,” I said quietly. “Let him rest.” Maddie nodded and came back to the counter, wiping her eyes before forcing a shaky breath. “What do you even take for something like this?” She muttered, opening drawers and pulling out jars at random. “Do you pack potions or swords or—I don’t know—a miracle?” “Both, if I could,” I said wryly, gathering bundles of dried wolfsbane and stargrass into small paper wraps. “Mostly healing salves. Maybe a few defensive potions. The border’s unpredictable.”

He frowned, realizing that he was slowly being surrounded by the malicious spirits. Just as Harry found himself cornered, Kim rushed onto the battlefield, a massive cloth sack slung over his shoulder and a handful of magical potions that Maria had prepared earlier gripped tightly in his hands. His eyes swept the battlefield, and seeing Harry being relentlessly pushed back by the vengeful spirits, he wasted no time. He pulled out several vials of potion and hurled them toward the surrounding spirits without hesitation. He actions were erratic, almost reckless, as he tossed the bottles seemingly at random. But fate was on his side—several vials struck the shadowy apparitions, and in an instant

I awkwardly shifted my gaze away, pretending to be interested in the store’s fine architecture. “I can pack it, but these potions must be taken under a healer’s supervision,” the owner said. I could feel her eyes on me. “Don’t worry, my brother is a healer. And I can guarantee he, too, would love to increase our bride’s stamina,” Ezra said. Choking on air, I broke into coughs. Clearing my throat, I pointed at the vials with tapering pointed ends that looked like horns. The pink and blue light in them seemed to be alive and swirled around the circular ridges of the horns.

The trees swayed distorted. The rogue leader's jaws snapped mere inches from my face. I countered with a swipe of my claws, ripping the rogue leader’s ear. The rogue howled, enraged. I seized the opening, delivering a crushing blow. The rogue leader immediately crumpled, defeated. The remaining rogues rushed to me but it was easier for me. My claws singled around, cutting their heads, tails, and ears. The smart ones among them ran with one of their body part missing while the rest stayed to be killed completely.

Lyra paused to observe a blacksmith as he inspected a freshly forged sword. The blade gleamed with a faint blue hue, a sign of the enchantments that had been worked into the metal. “This one’s strong,” the blacksmith said, his voice rough from hours of shouting over the din. “Sharp enough to cut through a Shadow Order’s armor, and it’ll hold an edge even after a hundred strikes.” Nearby, a mage stepped forward, her hands glowing with soft, golden light. She whispered an incantation, and the sword shimmered briefly before the glow faded. “It’s warded now,” the mage said. “It’ll resist the dark magic they’re known for.”

The sword energy is frosty and has a 20% chance to inflict a freezing effect, slowing down the enemy. Mana cost: 200 points, cooldown: 30 seconds. Requirement: Only accessible to sword cultivators. (Fine-quality boots - Cloud-Treading Boots): Speed +12, evasion +2%, leg skill damage +60. Requirement: None. Both items were excellent, and Sebastian was quite satisfied. He then used the spoils obtained from Zhou Hao and Zhou Shen. Next was the allocation of free attribute points. Without a doubt, Sebastian evenly distributed the points between strength and speed. As for defense, Sebastian didn't allocate any points.

The aura this red-eyed man was emanating was too much for my poor soul. Listening to what my father said, I realized he was in debt, once again! Now that he had no money, what was he going to trade? I wondered as I thought back to a pendant of mine he had almost snatched when he was in debt, claiming it could also pay his debt. That day was a day worth recalling… “And what are you going to use to pay me? Be quick about it, my patience is so little,” Mr. red eye said, and I noticed the nonchalant expression he had on. One look at that expression told me that killing was a piece of cake for him.