Vajra Sword Novels & Stories

I held both of her hands with just one of my hands and brought my lips to her ear while keeping her still. ________ Do you know what my strongest weapon is in the fight? - I whisper with an arrogant smile on my lips. - The force... if I may say so now I'm going to knock you out. - I announced taking her shoulder without caring about the beast that struggled on top of me. I left the ring still holding her and then stopped in front of the pool. And so I threw myself along with her keeping her close even though I knew I was playing with fire... - I said I would win. - I announced watching the expression of hate burn in those emerald green irises, however something in my chest turned on like a l

For the Ebony Panther King was already on his way here. “Wing Augmented Bloodied Blade: Crazed Cut of the Blade King” Mane swung the sword with all his strength. The stone sword hummed strongly, glowing with a beautiful green light. The winds of change mingled happily with destructive lightning and created a greater output of power than either was capable of individually. For a second it looked like it was going to break. But it stood firm, handling the destructive energy of the Bloodied Blade technique before handing it over to something else – the crystal clad abdomen of the White Fox.

He needed to end this, and quickly, lest Mika take advantage and win. Boro closed his eyes and opened his mind, he was the void. He felt the air stir as Mika moved in to capitalize on this moment, thinking Boro had given up. He was dead wrong, Boro felt the blade move through the rising daylight, and moved his body almost as if on its own, without thought, acting on pure instinct. His blade, the same type of single edged sword his father had used, the one that he had named Honor, moved as if to block Mika's but instead he ducked, and moved around it, weaving under the path of the blade, and at the last second he turned his own so that the flat of it struck Mika on his wrist, breaking it clea

Its formidable presence serves as a reminder of his role as a prince and protector. To Tritan's left, Finrir gracefully hovers, his pack adorned with a sheathed long Viking sword. If his lethality is needed, the sword becomes an extension of his skills, a weapon to be unsheathed with precision and deadly intent. Crafted with intricate engravings and a polished edge, the sword reflects the strength and resilience that Finrir embodies. It is a weapon that strikes fear into the hearts of their enemies, poised to be wielded when the situation demands it.

Moonstone accents adorned his gauntlets, greaves, and chest plate, pulsating with magical energy that resonated. In his hand, he wielded a sword forged from pure moonstone, its blade glowing softly with an inner light. The hilt was embellished with intricate patterns in Phaikón Árgyron resembling celestial constellations, further enhancing its mystical allure. As he brandished the sword, it seemed to hum with power.

"I'll pay for it for you, as my apology for your broken sword yesterday." I called a waiter to retrieve the sword from the showcase. Unlike the previous attendant, this time a young male waiter with black pants and a white shirt came. He opened the cabinet and handed me the sword. "W-wait, Vans, I don't want it," Livi replied, gesturing to decline. "But didn't you say you wanted it?" Why did she suddenly change her mind? In my opinion, it's a good sword, made of magical mithril material, strong, and can be infused with magical energy.

He had two knives in his hands now and before Slither could even blink, Jake stabbed each knife into his shoulders. “Any last words, Slither?” “Who the fuck are you?” Slither asked him with a grimace. “Wrath.” Jake pulled the knives from his shoulders and turned the blades, swiping them across Slither’s throat. Blood sprayed over Jake’s face, and when he turned around, his eyes looked lifeless. He walked past Weasel, back in the direction of where they left the van, and Weasel jogged to catch up with him. Neither man said a word and Jake climbed into the back of the van, leaned against the doorframe and closed his eyes.

He regained his cool composure, rose from the floor, and wiped the blood from his lip with a handkerchief. Despite his gentlemanly and calm demeanor, my heart trembled in fear. "You've underestimated me, Kent. I admit defeat this time, but I won't give up. I look forward to our next confrontation." With that, he opened the door. Kent quickly moved to stop him, but to his surprise, Jared managed to draw a wooden weapon from somewhere, aiming it at my temple. The dark hole of the tool was pointed at me, cold and merciless. My heart skipped a beat.

With Miguel's return to the room, the two could come across two guys standing at his door, one with brown hair in a well-aligned haircut, a shaved beard and standing with his hands in his pockets while the other was talking super excitedly, gesturing a lot. This one had dark blond hair combed back. As Miguel approached the duo, he put his hand on Catherine's shoulder, making her look at him a little scared at first. His hand was warm, and he had to take a step to his side, which made her smell his wonderful scent. It was Miguel's perfume, with a woody odor that matched perfectly with his lumberjack style. The trance in her mind was broken when she heard him introduce her.

So, I wouldn't let him win at all. “Arghhh!” I yelled at him as he ran to attack me again. I imagined a sword and shield and they appeared on my hands. Immediately, I began to battle the beast with it. It was a very intense one that at the clash of the shields and swords with the claws, there seemed to be an earthquake. It was as though the void was collapsing.