Swordsman Demon Slayer Novels & Stories

With the title of Sword Master, one could be a personal bodyguard, a leader, or some form of commander, of a force of soldiers, they could train men-at-arms or, in the case of Boro's teachers, future master swordsmen. As a young boy Boro had always wanted to be apprenticed by his father, who was considered the greatest swordsman in the last hundred years. But his fabled defeat at Haliax, where the False King Rohku had made his last stand, had robbed his father of his life and his legend. His father was all but certain to crush the last of the False King's army and bring the man's head to the capital. However, something went astray and Boro's father and all the men he had led were killed. Sto

I slashed their throats with my shield; their veins with my saber. Their death cries joined together in a symphony of pain and horror. I reveled in the screams of the dying men, licking the drops of blood as they splattered my face. I fended off thrown daggers with my shield, parried sword blows with my saber and counterattacked. I was destruction incarnate, and I felt happy. I was killing, and the demon blood sang in my veins. Death, death, death to my enemies.

"Human... how are you..." Lucien Desrosiers, the Demon King of the dark court, took one stunned step back. The noise behind him died at once. The hall was packed with elders, guards, and newly chosen sacrificial consorts, yet everyone seemed to forget how to breathe. Someone whispered, "She is not afraid of him? The Demon King's whole body carries the lust-curse. Any woman who gets too close starts collapsing within three seconds. Why is she fine?"

Even though these lower demons were all mindless beasts, certain demons were undoubtedly in charge of them. "Does this place have any other demon species?" In the dim light, my eyes fluttered. I'd already received two passives from killing demons, and they were both useful. Swoosh! Along with quick vibrations, there was a second bloody odour that emanated from the corner. Boom! I swung out again, this time with one of the swords I had taken from the vault. Slash! The monster was slashed cleanly into two halves, and its eyes betrayed its murderous intent.

And it did explode. *Boom* Heavenly Demon Kim Min was the first to strike. His sword glowed with a red hue that no living person had seen; all who did see this, had been reduced to dust. With a violent nature that only knew blood and war, he powerfully swung his sword at Master Subhuti. “Breath: Normal Slash of the Heavenly Demon.” *ROAR*

Sporadic sparks erupted between the sword blade and the sharp claws; the demon's skin was even tougher than steel, and ordinary sharp weapons were unable to injure the slightest bit of it. The man flipped his wrist, however, and seemed to pour some kind of marvelous and holy power into it, and the cold blade of the sword quickly flashed with a pale golden vein. The next thing he knew, the blade, which had been restrained by Crosier, easily sliced through his palm, slicing down horizontally, and finally slicing off half of the demon's small, slender arm. "... because he has a terrible temper," Shaykh added nonchalantly, apparently too late.

"I am Asmodeus! Demon prince of Lust. The Archdemon of the Second Circle of Hell." Raphael shook his head again, this time wildly. "No. No! Aeshma!" His eyes glowed gold and his bright wings stretched widely in his back. He raised his great sword in front of us, pointing the tip to where my rotten heart hid. Since I am a demon now, I can easily be scarred by his Holy Sword. I felt threatened by the weapon, yes, but just a bit. I hissed at him. For an archangel, he sure does accept the change so fast.

Not to her surprise, not even a single one from the group was now in the room. She was extremely ashamed. "Aren't you going?" The boy asked, looking at Megara. Megara didn't pass him a look and turned her gaze towards the struggling demon. She grabbed the hilt of her sword and in no second the head of the demon rolled down on the floor with blood gushing out of his neck like boiling water as the demon fell on his knees and stiffened in the same position. Megara took out her handkerchief and cleaned the dirty blood off her shiny sword.

I yelled releasing my sword of the righteous. I swung at the demon, his large burnt figure moved with a speed rivaled to that of a vampire. His eyes leaked magma as if it were crying. It opened its mouth roaring loudly at me, showing me its bright orange throat. I cut through its arm, causing it to let out a loud screech that harmed my hearing. I didn't have time to process as it slashed my chest with its claw like fingers.

“Holy water, crucifix… and the whole shebang. Including a claymore.” Scott blinked. “Holy shit—you brought a sword?” Larkam nodded. “Not just a sword. Demonslayer.” “Demonslayer? You serious?” “Dead serious.” As the boat sped toward the island, Scott’s gaze dropped to the weapon. The claymore’s ornate hilt glinted in the sunlight—gold and bronze, etched with ancient runes. “What’s the story behind it?” he asked, eyes wide. Trish leaned forward from her seat, wind in her hair. “That sword belonged to Gabriel during the Crusades. The Gabriel.”