The Blade Of Evolution: Walking Alone In The Dungeon Novels & Stories

He was the wealthy, arrogant playboy girls would swoon around, and also the Blade family's eldest son. "Ezekiel?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ezekiel Blade,” he said. "Why are you without your glasses, freckle face?” He always mentioned his last name like he was nothing without it. But I knew that he loved the name so much as it meant people would fear him. I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand away from his grip. “Still a bully, huh? Besides, I don't wear glasses anymore, and I'm definitely not freckle face. It's Lydia Winters,” I said, mimicking his words.

Because I wasn’t just carrying a blade. I was the thread. The center of her pattern. Her reflection. Her flaw. The moment I touched the hilt, the Hollow groaned. The mirrors cracked. And my eyes— They split red and silver. Veins of color danced over my skin like I was being rewoven from the inside out. “I am not yours,” I said aloud. Not to anyone. Not anymore. And the blade blazed. --- At sunrise, we descended. Not into the old war chambers. Deeper.

End him. I did. Flame wrapped tighter, biting bronze until it split. Light bled from him in streams, too bright, too heavy, like the marrow of stars spilt across stone. His knees hit the floor. His hands clawed empty air. The First Blade—the gods’ hand, their assassin—knelt. To me. --- Silence shook the hall. Every wolf stared. Every breath trembled. The priestesses sobbed silver, faces glistening. Selene did not move. Her face was unreadable, but her hands—her hands trembled.

Damon POV The world blurred into motion. Claws met steel, the sound like thunder ripping through marble. Sparks flew as my blade bit into the creature’s shoulder, but instead of blood, shadow spilled out, thick and crawling like oil. It hissed, face flickering between forms again - a soldier I’d lost, a brother I’d failed, a mirror of my own damn reflection. I didn’t hesitate. I drove the sword through its chest, forcing it back step by step, until its form began to crumble into mist.

he repeated. I pressed the blade deeper until blood ran down his chest. “You really want to die, rogue?,” I growled. But instead of answering, the rogue pushed himself harder against the blade. His face twisted in a mix of agony and madness as the silver burned into his skin. Lucas moved forward quickly. “Conan, wait. He is—” Before Lucas could finish, the rogue forced his body forward with sudden strength, pushing the blade all the way into his chest. His scream echoed through the dungeon before his body went limp, his head falling forward as his last breath left him.

He crouched, remaining motionless and silent and simply waited. Motionlessly and wordlessly, I walked towards his hideout. He flinched when he saw me and then he raised a dagger directly at me. Lunging straight for me, Blades shot out, sharp and glistening. Time slowed. The hall burst into different sounds; screams, anguish, the thunder of metal on metal– sword against sword, bladed against blades and swords against blades.

Blade came out with his usual all black clothing—a big black sweatshirt, a black baggy jean, black glasses, black face cap, black sneakers— and a revolver carefully tucked by his side. To my shock, the passenger door opened and a girl came out. She was obviously young, probably fourteen or fifteen with red hair and a round hazel eyes which peered at me through the glass of the coffee shop. I couldn’t help but wonder who she was and why Blade had decided to bring her along. They both shared words before walking towards the coffee shop. “Emily!” Blade called as he walked inside with his companion right behind him. “I’m right here,” I said waving my hands in the air to draw his attention.

Lucian exclaimed. "That's what I thought too but who would be using black magic. I made sure to get rid of those evildoers, the only surviving one is the one in the dungeon. It's impossible for someone to still possess such powers." "Who could this be?" Lucian muttered to himself. "Whosever it is has just stepped on a lion's tail" Zephyr said with a merciless smile. "you sure have quite a number of foes but we've never seen anything like this." Lucien said as he thought about who this could be.

When Jacket was providing cover for him, Jim had already started forming a mystic technique, channeling all his spiritual power into the blade. In a moment, Jim's sword underwent a bizarre transformation. The entire long blade was now fiery red, flames engulfing it. The flames resembled lava, continuously dripping from the blade like flowing blood. Jim's momentum drastically changed; he looked like a Shura returned from hell. He stared fixedly at Sebastian, the flames on the blade reflecting in his pupils. For a moment, he truly seemed like a Shura returned from the abyss. "I'll take your life, in memory of my brother!"

The black butterflies that had carried Hope away were everywhere now, their wings beating with the sound of a thousand whispered apologies that were never sent. "Darlene, the 'Grey Virus' is behaving like it’s found its home," Eryx whispered. He stood at the precipice, his bronze skin glowing with a dark, volcanic intensity. The "Grey-Iron" evolution was no longer a shield; it was a Conductor. Every pulse of light from the Abyss made the iron-weave of his skin vibrate, pulling at the carnal hunger we thought we had buried in the East. His crimson eyes were fixed on the dark, his hand white-knuckled on the hilt of his violet-fire blade.