The Blade Itself Audiobook Novels & Stories

I’m not sure when I send the blade flying, but in one second my hand is empty. I vaguely hear the sound of metal cutting through the air. In the next second, It slices through candlelight, haze and history. Then— Impact. Not the clean, hollow plunge I rehearsed a hundred times in my head. There’s resistance. A sickening scrape. Metal meeting flesh, then bone. A sharp, strangled inhale. The blade does not sink where it should.

The "Reviewer’s Blade" was a weapon of absolute exclusion. It didn't cut through flesh; it cut through "Relevance." As the man in the hoodie pointed the silver-glass tip at Silas, the Alpha-Regent felt his very history—the three years of his regret, the sacrifice in the spire, the battle for the sun—being "De-prioritized." He was becoming a "Secondary Character" in his own story, his gold-and-sapphire skin turning to a dull, uninteresting grey.

i cursed under my breath. The next thing I saw was one of the blade flying towards me with a chain attached to its handle.Then time slowed to a snails pace. While the blade was flying towards me at slow motion i took some seconds to acess the blade.The blade was pure black in colour and it had uneven edges with the middle part of the blade having some indiscernible inscriptions sparkling orange color sparks.The chains on the handle of the blade seem to be connected to his wrist like Spiderman's web.And i don't know how he did that.I side stepped the blade only to find the other flying towards where i was.It was at this point that i knew that it wasn't just some child's play.This guy was real

The blade felt heavier in my hands than it should have, as though it carried the weight of every decision I was about to make. Its dark, jagged edge seemed to hum softly, a sound only I could hear, resonating in my chest like a second heartbeat. Every time I looked at it, the whispers grew louder—promises of power, freedom, and control. I was close to running mad, or so I felt. I didn’t tell Rigel or Selene what I was doing. This was my burden, my risk. I had waited until the others were asleep, the sparkling glow of our campfire masking the faint light that pulsed from the blade as I drew it from its sheath.

"You planned it all? Too bad your brain couldn't plan for this." Before he could blink, in one quick motion, the blade in the air left my fingers like a whisper of death. It sliced through the side of his cheek-clean, sharp, leaving a trail of blood like a red warning. He flinched, hands instinctively rising to his face before the knife embedded itself straight between the eyes of the guard behind him . The body dropped with a thud . The silence that followed was heavy. Deadly. I turned my back on him without fear. But Klaus's voice rang out immediately, sharp as gunfire.

Lucian briefly answered, withholding some information. "Why is he not healing? I need to fully know what happened to him do I can know which treatment I'd give him" Chris instructed sternly. Lucian hesitated for a while, thinking whether to tell him or not. Then he looked at the two nurses who were quick to get the memo and they left. "What was he stabbed with?" Chris pried further. "An enchanted silver dagger" Lucian divulged, earning a gasp from Chris. "That's bad, really bad." Chris chanted, his face showing his worry.

Nathan shudder in fear, hearing his words. “Unfortunately, Aoi Akuma-sama want to keep you.” he squeezed Nathan face firmly. “Now, I wonder what is your connection to his beloved Crimson Blade and that girl.” Nathan stared fixedly at him in perplexed, ever since they picked them up and dragged, he always heard them say, ‘Crimson Blade’. ‘Who is Crimson Blade? And what is it?’

Damon POV The first blade came from the left. I deflected it, slammed my shoulder into the attacker, and drove my knife up under his ribs. He dropped without a sound. More came—sprinting through the trees, shouting Axel’s name like it was a war cry. I met them head-on. Steel met flesh. Blood soaked into the dirt. I moved on instinct. Dodge, strike, kill. My breath was ragged, my arms heavy, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. I carved a path forward through the chaos, eyes scanning the battlefield, listening for anything—anyone—that could tell me where Kalilah was.

With extreme fear, Delilah shook her head vigorously as she pleaded, "Tristan, it's me, Lila! What are you…" A scream echoed through the air as he slapped her harshly across the face. He inserted the dagger between her thighs, his tone frosty as he asked, "Was this what you did to my child?" With each word Tristan spoke, his voice grew quieter. Soon, all that could be heard were Delilah's faint gasps. The live stream flickered with static, but the ban still hadn't been enforced. I felt a chill down my spine as I met his eyes on-screen.

Readying himself, he waited for his opportunity. The clash and clang of blades was cacophonous, echoing throughout the chamber like. Their music was harsh, orchestral. In it could be heard the highs and lows of the individual steels’ tone. The retreats and advances. The bang of blade edges meeting, the scraping slash, the high ringing song of the poignard, silence between recoveries, the high tonal, clangorous flunge, was exacting and terrible to hear.