The Legendary Swordsman Novels & Stories

She took the blade again and swiftly cut her wrist without showing even an ounce of pain on her face. The water began to color red and she lay there with her head on the edge, a serene smile played on her lips. One wondered is this how death feels? Like a happiness after ages? Like perfectly cold water after a long run? Like life was never meant to be? ***

West Point of View “Aghh!” I enjoy the scream of each rogue as I stamp the heated metal in their body. “We promise not to do it again!” They begged. I look at the five of them. They outnumbered my Luna! I look at the one guy who remains silent. I walk closer to him. I raised the metal but he didn’t flinch a bit. “I don’t know that the Legendary Luna is that weak.” His devilish laugh echoed in the whole room.

That's what he's doing… Anya is somewhere right now pretending to be a predator marking her prey, so she could take down a 6-foot-tall wolf just to please my father. “Where is she? Where is Anya!?” I roared at him but my words were nothing but snarls and threatening growls as they left my throat. The Gammas mistook my words and lunged at him at once, and as expected it only took a sweep of his sword and they were cut in half. I planted my paws deeper into the sand to keep myself grounded. He was a master of the sword. For more than twenty years he had trained in the way of the katana, earning the title of kenshi—a swordsman whose skill left no room for doubt.

With the title of Sword Master, one could be a personal bodyguard, a leader, or some form of commander, of a force of soldiers, they could train men-at-arms or, in the case of Boro's teachers, future master swordsmen. As a young boy Boro had always wanted to be apprenticed by his father, who was considered the greatest swordsman in the last hundred years. But his fabled defeat at Haliax, where the False King Rohku had made his last stand, had robbed his father of his life and his legend. His father was all but certain to crush the last of the False King's army and bring the man's head to the capital. However, something went astray and Boro's father and all the men he had led were killed. Sto

The Lifeless Sword Technique came from a mysterious supreme powerhouse known as the Innate Supreme Deity. Legend has it that he was a martial Path ancestor, and Greg wanted to find out more from Lynn. However, she said nothing else. Greg was a little disappointed about this.

He knew himself that he cant buy a good sword as he have to buy body tempering technique too with this little amount of money. As he tried to pick a sword he saw a beautiful black sword in the corner of rack, Theo mesmerized and uttered," what a beautiful black sword", suddenly from back he heard the word," isn't it beautiful, to sad the cultivator from whom i got the sword told me that this sword cannot cut anything, its dull sword". Suddenly as if deciding something Theo decide that he will take that sword. Theo walked out of the blacksmith shop shouting," Thank you, old man jiang"

"The Sword Blast would remain the most powerful swordsmanship through eternity—have you heard about that?" The mysterious man exuded a powerful aura as he spoke. If there were other sect masters present at the time, they would have been shocked. The Sword Blast would remain the most powerful swordsmanship through eternity—was the representative of the Saber Saint, Preston Medina, a legend in the world of cultivators from about 20 years ago.

A faint blue glow emanated from the walls, like spirits lurking within the shadows. At last, they entered a vast chamber surrounded by towering stone pillars. In the center of the room, embedded in another altar, a silver-blue sword pulsed with a mystical glow. Aria froze. She didn’t know how, but she knew that sword. Lorian stepped forward, eyes widening. "This…" Rael shook his head in disbelief. "The Legendary Blade…" Aria turned to them. "What do you mean?" Lorian met her gaze. "This is the Sword of Light—the only weapon capable of defeating Vaelin’s darkness. But it was lost centuries ago..."

Master Yi's eyelids twitched when he saw the sword. The swordsmen from Japan usually had their own names. As for a sword shot, who used the famous saber "Jue", he was none other than the martial arts teacher of the Emperor of Japan. The living legend of Japan, the person admired the most by Katou Wudo, was the guardian of Yamamoto. "Is the person in front of me Yamamoto?" Master Yi's heart beat faster. Yamamoto, the strongest man in Japan, was known as the patron saint of Japan.

The memories of the borderlands, the hunts, the bloodshed—they all blurred into the background. Only the blade remained. Steel. Control. Focus. He spun the sword once and brought it down in a clean strike that would have split a skull from crown to jaw. The sound echoed softly across the courtyard. Then— “You train early.” The voice came from behind him. Deep. Smooth. Ancient. Adrian froze instantly. His instincts reacted before his thoughts did. He turned and dropped to one knee. “My king.” King Vaelreth stood near the entrance of the courtyard, his dark cloak stirring slightly in the cold morning wind.