Void Blade Novels & Stories

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! Lord Red Cloud suddenly stopped laughing and, in an unexpected move, threw three shining blades at Kiran, which caught him by surprise. "Kiran, be careful!" shouted the people from Dragonsland instinctively. Kiran didn’t move but watched the approaching spinning blades. These blades were shaped like five-pointed stars, each tip a curved, razor-sharp edge. The three blades attacked from different angles—one directly aimed at the forehead. This way, the person who was attacked would suffer attacks from three directions. Any hit from these blades would be fatal.

Every soul who had tried and failed. Or succeeded. At the edge of the molten bridge ahead stood the altar. There it was. The Stone Blade. It hovered above a black pedestal, suspended by nothing but its own weight of meaning. It glowed not with light, but with silence—perfect stillness in a world of fire. It had no hilt, only stone molded for her palm, and a jagged edge that looked as if it had been pulled from the core of the moon itself. The voice of the Guardian boomed once more across the chamber: "To wield the blade, you must be willing to lose all you love."

Aziz murmured a snarky remark, so only I could hear. I didn’t spare him a glance, instead. “Uncle, do you want me to?” “Yes,” Eren said. “Bring the scimitar.” I took the other curved blade from its box. Not a hellblade flashing a ruby, just good old steel. The old man’s eyes lit when it flashed. He set the cane aside with his thumb stroking the curve of the blade. “Magnificent,” he breathed. “This blade looks so good. Can you fix it up for me before purchase? sharpen it, nothing vulgar since it is a gift.”

The obsidian blade goes through the grey Harvester’s plate as though the plate is warm wax, and the cut does not slow at the armor the way every law of the physical world says it should, because the engine is at full and full means the blade carries my entire frequency into the steel ahead of the edge, and the steel forgets, for one impossible instant, how to be solid.

It was a razor-thin, horizontal disc of absolute sub-spatial friction, hovering exactly four feet off the ground, stretching across the entire width of the avenue. The Prime Forge didn't slow down. Its automated Founder AI didn't recognize the sub-ether anomaly as a physical threat. The massive war machine rolled directly into the Phase-Blade at forty miles an hour. The sound was indescribablea horrific, screeching howl of heavy durasteel being unwritten from reality. The Phase-Blade didn't cut the Forge; it deleted the molecular bonds of anything that passed through it. The Forge’s massive front treads hit the blade and were instantly severed.

The Hollow Blade waited for her there. It was no weapon forged by men, nor a simple vision birthed from fear. It was something etched into the marrow of her existence. A spectral blade with jagged, shifting edges, its body wreathed in whispers that cut deeper than steel. The voice it carried wasn’t one voice, it was many, layered, distorted, yet unified in cruelty. "You think you can wear the crown of Luna? You think your blood is strength, hybrid?" the Blade hissed, circling her in the void-space.

“This is Intuin Desparen, the Heart Blade.” The blade’s hilt was simple, but the blade gleamed with otherworldly light, and as he laid it across the palms of his hands, I could see writing imbued upon its length. “What it does,” Rivyn said, his voice quiet and reverent, although it carried throughout the chamber, “you will discover in time, princess, but I will tell you this: it’s powers will only work for you, or one of your direct line.”

I asked pointing them. "Well devar ji there is a small ritual remaining". Navya said with a mischievous tone. "And what the hell is that". I asked being irritated. "You have to give us something". Roshni said. I nodded. "Ok what you want". I asked impatiently. "Bhai I already told you what I want, Redmie note 9 pro". Roshni said "and for me I want 5 boxes of ferraro rocher". Navya said shrugging.

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.

But for Alex, he automatically knew who it was as he immediately recognized his white hoodie that got splattered with paint in the colors of the rainbow. He scrolled up and as the caption, he simply had a blue heart emoji. "Blue."