Trollhunters Swords Novels & Stories

Her intense gaze, hardened by countless battles, was tempered by her unwavering loyalty to Somerland. To Elysia's left stood Gareth Swordbane, widely feared and respected as the Sword Demon. He was a tall, imposing figure, his eyes sharp and deadly. Known for wielding a blade with unparalleled mastery, Gareth’s skill in swordsmanship was legendary, his reputation as a ruthless opponent striking fear into the hearts of all who dared challenge him. His sword, an ancient blade etched with runic symbols, was strapped across his back, and his eyes held a piercing focus that spoke of countless battles fought and won.

He spat the blood as his only response to the Grand Hunter. Lorath twisted a smirk on his lips. “You’re too proud for your own good.” He raised his broadsword into the air and said, “I’ll be the one to put an end to your bloodline once and for all.” —[Sword of Wolf Hirashi]— Raeherys had to cover his eyes as the broadsword flashed brightly along with the triangular mark on Lorath’s chest. The light shone in gold as the weapon absorbed the energy from his chest.

Sekora asked. “You will be able to recognize them by the symbols on the hilt, first there is the Tsunami sword recognizable by the wave, next is the Earth breaker sword represented by broken earth, next is the Shadow sword represented by a ghost, next is the Sun saber represented by a sun, next is the Phoenix Wing sword recognized by wings, next is the Speed sword represented by a rabbit and finally there is the Power sword represented by a bull.” D2 replied going back to the lighter tone of voice.

His expression darkened as he told the two fighters from the Hunt family. “Sh*t. I think that punk’s sword is an ultimate-grade spiritual tool. Only our master has one of those, yet he has one too!” Shawn’s expression darkened. He flipped his palm and took out his lower-grade spiritual tool, gripping it tightly. He had originally thought that his tool was a pretty good find, but as he wrapped his fingers around it, he did not feel its novelty anymore. “Don’t worry. The Lagorio family will attack the Cabello family, while the Hunt family will surround the Woods punk first. We’ll get his ultimate-grade spiritual tool once we kill him!”

Looking at the sharp sword in Lucas' hand threw the Genetic Fighters on both sides of Wonder Lake into turmoil. "Just what on Earth is this sword about? It's way too horrifying." "By just the looks at it, I already felt that I've lost my life." “Same right here. This is the scariest sword I've ever seen, the only one of it." All the Genetic Fighters were trembling, and their faces put on a horrifying look. The same was felt by all the members of the Lane and Houston family. "This!" Quinto, who could stun three mountains, grasp five valleys, and chase tidal away that even spirits, was also stunned. He could have sworn that this was the first time he was this stunned

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, she was done. The fight had ended. Timmy Stormblood (two hundred thousand perus) had defeated Deputy Officer Eithne Short-eye (two hundred thousand perus). ... Billy Drakens reached for his swords, Gravemaker and Ritual Warblade. Opposite him was the Deputy Officer Lothar Sun. Bill Drakens was an occasional dual blade weilder, his two swords were both cursed blades. Cursed weapons were told to harbour demons within them, or at least that was what the rumors told.

I should've known that I could never be a dark horse, let alone face a group of trolls who want to step on me and erase me from existence. Waiting for the impact, I stood there frozen. Air blew my hair and brushed my skin, but nothing happened to me. Did I fly? Am I dead again? Opening my right eye to pee at what's up, my eyes went wide upon seeing the bottom of the foot of the troll just an inch away from my face. The skin turns from pale pink to the colorless rock that cracks and smokes the dust underneath. Whimpering from fear, my grip on the hilt of the sword turned weak, and it fell clanking on the floor.

The war raged on, a battle of power and soul, each stroke striking like a crescendo amid the storm. My trembling palm clutched Xavier's sword, a relic of power that pulsed with an energy I didn't understand. The blade became an extension of my will as the Demon leaped at me with murderous intent. The sword clashed with its opponent's blade in a dance of survival, each strike mirroring the ferocious struggle for power.

Vol is the best blacksmith we have in our tribe and he is passing down his legacy to his son, Coll. Vol created our weapons and when I won the deer hunting competition, I asked him to create a new set of spears with a Fleur de Lis symbol, the symbol that has been passed down to Ambrose’s for ages. Some people in our tribe told me a story about how the werewolves feared the symbol. “Thank you for these amazing spears and knives, Vol.” I traced the symbol as I scan the spears. The shaft is made with lignum vitae, the strongest wood we have and it is furnished with black dye. The shoe of the spear is made with silver and an embedded symbol of Fleur de Lis.

Realizing the disadvantage the other tried to make a run for it, but Will was faster than them and easily blocked their path. The silver blades they wielded glinted in the setting sun, but Will’s eyes held only blind rage and the crowd of Werewolves and their Alphas watched in astonishment, Will’s single-handed annihilation of ten, overly ambitious hunters. His body moved with swift precision, appearing almost ghostlike as he slit their throats with his claws and ripped jugulars with his canines, uncaring and unwavering as silver blades slashed his skin and blood both his own and of others matted his fur.