The Way Of The Blade Novels & Stories

The blade tilted toward Zara. I stepped in front of her without thinking. “Don’t,” I snarled. Voss’s lips curved. “Fascinating. It recognizes hierarchy already.” The blade lunged. It didn’t aim for my heart. It went for my bond. Pain exploded through me, white, searing, intimate. The blade skimmed my chest, carving a sigil into my skin that burned straight through flesh and into spirit. I hit the floor hard, the world shattering into sparks and echoes.

No one present—not the three bewildered thugs, nor the whimpering leader, Blade—had clearly seen the move. Skylar Vance’s hand, small and delicate, looked utterly frail, yet it had crushed the muscle and bone of Blade’s thick forearm with casual ease. The sound of splintering bone was relentless, a horrifying, staccato crack-crack-crack that merged sickeningly with Blade’s uncontrollable, animalistic shrieks. Under the weak, sputtering light bulb, the scene was an absolute nightmare.

"I won't let go." Rhydian smiled through the blood on his lips. "You never have to." The Twin Blades merged into one brilliant white sword. Its light pierced the heavens. The King of the Void looked at the weapon. For the first time... It took a single step backward. "You forged..." Its voice carried something unfamiliar. "...the Blade of Beginning." The Creator smiled. "No. They did." The white blade released a pulse of light that spread across the collapsing world. Dead trees bloomed. Broken stone became green with life. The frightened Gatekeepers felt hope returning to their hearts. Even the widening crack in the sky stopped growing.

She fought like a wolf—elusive, patient, aiming for tendons and openings. Clack. Clack. THUMP. She landed a solid blow on his ribs. He returned one on her shoulder that numbed her arm for a second. They broke apart, breathing harder now, a new respect dawning in the space between them. This was no longer a test. It was a conversation. Their blades spoke a language of feints, parries, and counters. He learned she favored her left side when tiring. She learned he had a tells when he was about to lunge. They were evenly matched in skill, but differently schooled. His was the art of the duel. Hers was the art of the kill.

The impact sent him crashing to the ground of the cage. The crowd cheered crazily, screams erupted all around me. "BLADE!" "BLADE!" "BLADE!" I pulled out my custom-made blade gleamed with a savage hunger under the bright arena lights. The polished steel bore the name "Capone," etched into the metal like a proclamation of death. Its edge was as sharp as a serpent's fang. It looked eager to cut, having tasted the blood of many before. The handle, wrapped in black leather, felt like a coiled snake in my grip, ready to strike with deadly accuracy. This blade wasn't just a weapon; it was a merciless instrument of brutality, a symbol of my unrelenting power in this world.

“Bloodied Blade: Crazed Cut of the Blade King!” With a furious bellow Mane announced the name of his technique. It wasn’t to anyone in particular. It was more like a declaration of what he was going to do. He intended to crash the foe before him with absolute force. The lightning around his blades screamed even louder as they became more destructive. The Bloodied Blade Series was so much more destructive than the Prideful Sword Series. So much so that Mane had been able to pick up just one technique from it so far. And when used in conjunction with an element of mass destruction like lightning, its effects were catastrophic. As the swords reached Camila, the temperature of the blades caused

It seems like Kala has no other way in making Solana give in and talk so he needs her there. "Well? Show me the way," she said to Blade arrogantly. On Blade's side, it is unfair that she gets special treatment from Kala, he understands that she is an asset if he is to wage a war inside the supernatural's border, however, the fact that she is one of them does not cut it.

The sword known as the treasure of Blade's Reach was destroyed by Adrian. Hansen looked at the shattered Lunar Edge, completely stunned. The next moment, Adrian struck again with the Hellblade, which carried a killing intent that surpassed everything. The attack was about to fall on Hansen's neck.

The world exploded into scent and sound and raw power. When the shift was complete, Blade stood there, massive and panting. But his eyes, when I looked through them, were not the chaotic red-blue of the curse. They were a clear, focused, burning hazel. My hazel. I looked down at the map clenched carefully in his teeth. Then I looked north, towards the distant, jagged line of the Seven Mountains on the horizon. With a powerful thrust of his hind legs, Blade launched forward. Not in a destructive rage, but in a single-minded, world-eating sprint. We were a black arrow shot from a bow, tearing through the forest, driven by one thought, one hope, one deadline.

Ulysses seemed a little perturbed at Blade's name calling, but it didn't surprise River that he would try to intimidate them using such immature tactics. "Nah, I'm not worried about that, either," Blade said, a smirk on his face. He laughed and ran a hand down the side of his hair. His bangs came to a perfect spike above his left eye, like the weapon he was named after. River wondered which had come first--the name or the hairstyle. Had he been born with that hairstyle or had he decided he needed a trademark look that represented his deadly name?