The Blade Itself Audiobook Novels & Stories

Fletcher felt a cold and sharp thing that someone thrust on him. It is not a knife or any blade either. He can’t explain what he feels anymore, all he knows is that all of his energy and even his life is slowly being absorbed by that thing that was on his neck. He can still see someone’s feet walking towards him when he was about to look at it’s face but it’s already too late. He can feel someone touch his face until he loses complete consciousness.

“You will never take my son away. You will die trying.” “If that’s the case…”I waved my hand in mid-air now with large claws ready to attack the Blade. "I now declare war against you and your army, Blade.” Blade cackled coyly. His laughter echoed throughout the whole place. "Are you serious going against me, my little shifter? Look at you! Your tiny arms and luscious legs. They are no match for me. You are digging your own grave. Worst, you take some stupid wolf to die with you.”

I pressed against her back and moved her hand to one of my favorite blades. “This is a Poshland RAM-21. The spiral blade is painful because of the spiral wound it creates and definitely makes it much bloodier. They struggle to heal, and if they do somehow manage to heal, they will be left with serious damage from the muscles and nerves,” I said softly into her ear. Brynn tilted her head, carefully running her thumb along the dull part of the blade. She grabbed it and placed it on the table beside us. Then I moved her hand to another one. There was something incredibly hot about this right here, and I was certain that she could feel my rising lust just like I was feeling hers.

Using its slumped form as leverage, I sprinted up its back, jumped, and drove my sword down between its shoulder and neck with everything I had. The blade sank deep, slicing through flesh and bone. A final roar tore from its throat, echoing across the mountains. Then silence. It fell face-first into the snow with a sickening crack, black blood hissing where it touched the ground. We stood over the body—Rhett in wolf form panting, blood matted in his fur. Aurelia was glowing with power, her hair dancing like flame in the wind. Me—still armored, still buzzing with magic not entirely my own.

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.

Blade then crouched in front of the two women as they groaned in agony. "This is the final warning," Blade declared, her voice laced with menace, "Do not speak to me as if we are equals. I surpass both of you in every way, and if you ever disrespect me again, I will personally ensure that you pay dearly, perhaps by cutting off your tongues and serving them to you."

I told them about the incident with the blade. As I pulled the blade to show them, my breath hitched. A sickening realization settled over me—the blade had begun to decay, its once-impenetrable metal now chipped where our blood had mingled. The sharp edge had dulled, the intricate engravings that once pulsed with power were now barely visible beneath the damaged metal. It was as if the weapon itself had been tainted, consumed by the impossibility of what had touched it.

A sharp whooshing sound rushed past my ear before I could react. The object flew toward me and shot past my face, the sudden force of it making my hair whip slightly across my cheek. The jacket was instantly pinned against the pine tree behind me. The blade had gone straight through the thick fabric and buried itself deep into the bark with a heavy thud. A soft gasp escaped from me before I could stop it. My hand instinctively flew to my chest as my heart slammed violently against my ribs. The cold realization settled in immediately. He had thrown it without even seeing me.