The Blind Swordsman Novels & Stories

Xiao Chen smiled, raised one of his swords, and casually slashed his right hand. Then something surprising happened in front of Xiao Chen. The figure in front of him also slashed his right hand, leaving both of them without a right hand. The figure who had thought he would win was confused because he suddenly cut off his own hand without knowing why. Xiao Chen, who saw his doppelganger standing there in confusion, immediately attacked with his full strength, one slash containing the power of the god of war instantly cutting through the figure's body.

"You're what? Three months old? Four?" It pulled back. "I have her memories." "Memories aren't self." I followed. Crowding its space. "You remember being blind. But you've never been in darkness. You remember loving me. But you've never felt anything." Its hand rose. Knife. Small. Professional. I didn't move. "Kill me," I said. "And you prove I'm right. That you're just violence. Just emptiness. Just—" The window shattered. Not gunshot. Rock. Simple.

Their blades shimmered in the sunlight, a testament to their craftsmanship and legacy. As I grasped the twin swords, a surge of gratitude washed over me. Finally, I could behold the very weapons I had hidden away for years. With a laugh, I realized they were exactly as Claudio had described, truly peculiar, with one blade black as midnight and the other as pure as driven snow. "Who wields a twin sword with two different colours, black and white?" I mused aloud, chuckling at the absurdity of it all. "No one, but you, of course," came a voice from behind me.

You would have heard of the man first before seeing him; the way his cane scraped on the floor when he was coming brought more fear than the noise of the cane itself. One word was perfect to describe him: he is ruthless. A man you don’t mess with, or else he would end you even before you know it. It was a known fact, and no one explored it except some people with death wishes. “All hail Alpha King Lucius.” The palace bard man called out, and everyone sitting rose in honour of the blind man who managed to bring an entire realm under his control without his eyes. The cane wound was getting louder, and the men in the room were getting more scared.

" Hell bloody no, his bicep and broad shoulder were more interesting, though. How would it feel if I ran my hands downward? Would he moan? "I want you to remember that perhaps the most diverse and exotic types of swords were the Asian swords, which include straight, double-edged Chinese longswords (Jian) and single-edged Chinese Sabers (Dao), as well as a myriad of other exotic weapons favoured by martial artists the world over. See this?" Andrew held the sword like it was his other hand, expertly and effortlessly, impressive though. He had been explaining it since forever, which bored her death, but, all Diana could remember was the glint of that sword and his dweet pale hands. It was like

Luckily, Michael reminded her, or else she might end up talking nonsense again. Although Edward James did not see Clara, the woman sitting with him saw her. The woman looked straight at Clara when she was still looking at him. It startled Clara. On the contrary, her body began to heat up and her mood was uneasy as if she had just been caught by the woman doing her bad deeds. “I thought you said you’d heard of Edward James, so you should know.” Clara wanted to forget what had just happened, so she talked to Michael. “Know what?” “Edward James is a blind man. He’s blind so he can’t see me.”

The sword flew back into the hand of its wielder, and Belzebub and Asmo turned to face their attacker. Their eyes locked onto him, their minds racing with questions. Who was this mysterious swordsman? And how did he manage to slash their tire - and nearly decapitate Belzebub - with such precision? He possessed piercing brown eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity. He stood at an impressive height of around 6 feet 5 inches, with a strong and athletic build that exuded power and grace. His black hair was a wild tangle of locks that fell to his shoulders, framing his chiseled features and piercing brown eyes that seemed to see right through to the soul.

The familiar weight settled into his grip like an old companion. For a moment he stood perfectly still, letting the quiet settle around him. Then he began. The blade moved through the air in slow, controlled arcs. Steel cut through the morning mist. Again. Again. Again. Each motion was deliberate. Measured. His breathing fell naturally into rhythm with the movement of the sword. Training had always been the only place where Adrian’s mind truly quieted. The past faded. The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background.

A boisterous cry rang out as a group of dark formally dressed fighters walked towards the square. Sword sparkles pointed at his throat, lower middle and chest, the brutish man stopped without moving an inch. The frightening part was that two of the blade sparkles that were pointed at him were significantly longer than his own. The proprietors of those blades were most certainly Three Star Silver Swordsmen. The couple of different men who accompanied the brutish man speedily endeavored to conceal their weapons.

Unsurprisingly, this was the Klondike portion within the sloppy swordsman taking effect. As if to specifically verify Chase's conclusion, four tentacles extended from the sloppy swordsman's back, each gripping a long sword at its tip. The swords were black and white. The black swords radiated sinister energy that could easily be overlooked while the white swords brimmed with an evil aura, creating an eerie sensation.