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A Thread of Broken Fate

“You can bring back everyone you’ve lost. It will only cost your sanity.” The king is dead, murdered by an interloper from the future—a manic copy of his own son, hellbent on forcibly reversing a disastrous timeline. The true Damian Roswald—a hedonistic crown prince bereft of magical talent—finds his comfortable life upended by his father’s murder and assassins from his own future. “There are none left who can judge us, so we must be our own executioner. That is the cursed fate of those few named Damian Roswald.” With politicians plotting his demise, his royal cousins scheming for the empty throne, and warring churches tearing the grieving city apart, Damian must accept the tragedy of his countless futures—or else, find himself doomed to repeat them. But can a mere mortal decide their own fate in a world governed by almighty angels? “Find me, Damian Roswald. And I’ll tell you why the stars fell.” For three centuries, even the wisest men have accepted that the night sky was once populated by ‘stars’—until a terrible calamity plunged mankind into a Dark Age. From the darkness, the Roswalds rose to power, but few know that the first crown was forged with the blood of a slaughtered god… Damian must endure countless tragedies and the consequences of his own future actions to reach the peace he desires—but could the true threat be hiding not in his future, but in his own distant past? **Join our Discord and never miss a chapter!! https://discord.gg/M5cTyzW44Q**

BrettMichaelOrr · Urban
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145 Chs

and the heavens tremble.

30 MINUTES BEFORE FIRELIGHT

The sun dipped perilously close to the horizon, painting the bronze-colored oak trees a blazing orange.

The soldiers marched towards the manor, banners unfurled and flapping in the breeze. The motif of the Great Flame flew upon a white background—a declaration against the Deep, against the Collective, and against the heretics holed up inside the manor.

From the opposite direction, Apostles of the Deep swarmed out of the hills and valleys like spilled ink. Among their ranks were the duke's created monsters—vicious hounds with yellow eyes, fangs bared in malice.

"This will be a bloodbath," Lynn murmured, grimacing at the oncoming army. 

Although ordinary Apostles weren't powerful on their own, in greater numbers, they could be a deadly threat. The Deep's Blessings were amplified by adherents, linking souls together and bolstering its strength with the number of believers.