Novel & Cerita The 7 Swordsmen Of The Mist

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.

The soldiers still stood guard around Hector despite their fear. "Everyone’s got a souvenir. I want a rug too," Ydrian joked. "B-Blasphemous!" one of Hector’s Betas barked. "Is that the only word you know?" Ydrian rolled his eyes. "Want me to lend you a dictionary?" I couldn’t watch anymore. A signal passed through the wind. Howls rang, echoing through the mist. Tonight, they meet their demise. Fog swept across the battlefield like the breath of spirits. Leaves rustled with warning. Confusion spread. Then came the figures. Mist-wolves. Ash-gray titans with glowing blue and amber eyes.

All swords came swinging toward Chase. "Nothing but ants." A sarcastic glint flashed in Chase's eye. He dealt a right punch that burst with great power. Something broke in the air. A dark form of a gigantic dragon's claw appeared as it shadowed all corners. It sent tremors to the joint attack of the seven men. The crisp sound of clanging could be heard. Every clang created bright sparks that shot in every direction. "How is this possible?" All seven men were shocked. They were martial monarchs who had joined hands. Their power was enough to fight an ordinary martial deity!

Millions of Nightmares of all classes are gathered in front of a pitch black castle. Above the stairs are thirteen commanders, each wearing a white mask and carrying a Muerte Sword. Muerte Swords or Death Swords are the same as a Dark Crystal Sword that the Crimson Eyed Warriors use. The difference is that they do not dematerialize and they are capable of sucking the soul of their victim. These souls will add to the sword's strength and will pass the knowledge and skills of the victim's soul to its wielder. There are only 13 Muerte Swords in the Nightmare Empire and they are given to 13 compatible wielders.

Chest heaving, I tighten my fist around the knife as each man moves to surround me. The bald one, who I shall call “stupid mother fucker number one, or SMFNO for short,” moves closer and stretches his hand out to touch me. “Well, now you’ve hurt our feelings, little girl. I guess we’ll have to make you then.” Before he can reach me, I clamp my hand around his wrist and twist it up. His cry of pain blends with his friend’s cry of outrage. Take a guess what I call this one? If you said, “stupid mother fucker number two (SMFNT),” you’re right? Congrats!

She was the only one who could find me in this mist, thereby leading others to me. ROSE: was? MISTY: Yeah, cos she is....dead. Nora tried protecting the stupid gem ROSE: Who is Nora? MISTY: My sworn enemy and now you are going to end up just like her. Foggy sword (she drew a sword from the fog) Now die. (Wanted to slash Rose but she flew away, parrying each if her attempted slash) Now die (wanted to slash Rose but she flew away) Common, attack me girl and stop flying away like a coward

Nathan then instantly flipped over the air and stands at Zitrey’s side. Slayer smirked from the unexpected hit he receives. He tardily holds his long blade katana while tapping it on his shoulder. The dull part was colored in black while the sharp one was in shiny silver, and in between, they were a dark purple in a zigzag pattern. The weapon was scary enough to make goosebumps, it seems possessed by the shadow of death. Slayer then uttered while staring intently to Nathan, “I will play with you lad. You seem fun.” he then looked at his remaining troupe, “There are still few people upstairs, so babies, kill the rest~”

Yumi shouted. Syd shook his head. The blade of his sword lit ablaze with spiritual flames, and he brought the sword down onto Wilbur with one swift move. Fern and Mist cried out in shock, swinging their swords at Syd as well. A sword formed in Yumi's grasp to intercept Syd's attack. Fern and Mist's swords hit Syd's body at the same time. Blood sprayed in the air, and Yumi flew to her feet to block the mist from touching Wilbur.

At that moment, Wayne pulled out a horn from his pocket and blew it. A wind swept throughout the fortress and a great cloud of mist blanketed the entire hall. "What the hell?" He heard one mercenary mutter. "I am finding it hard to see properly in this thick cloud of smoke," another complained. "My sword! Something just snatched away my sword," a third mercenary exclaimed. After a few minutes, screams erupted in different locations. "There is something in the mist, I was stabbed by something or someone!" a voice of one of the mercenaries cried out.

Everyone heard a clunk, and the armored fighters' silver swords seemed like they were trying to pierce into an impenetrable material. The gray slash was like the strongest thing in the world, and the swords failed to even pierce through a single inch. That was not all. The slash had not just stopped the two silver-armored fighters, but after they stopped the sword, the slash let out a wave of black mist that started to crawl up the swords and onto their bodies like vines.