I started off as nothing, just a mass of consciousness that slowly evolved. Just your average overpowered existence hungry for a multiverse adventure. Demons? They are my friends. Monsters? They are delicacies. Heroes? Not even equal to the dirt on my boots. Royalty? Money Machi- Ahem, a pleasure doing business. Immortals and Gods? Share with me the latest gossips! With power comes responsibility, but I'm just a ball... or am I just a ball? Watch as I regain my memories and beat up my past self. Note: No common sense in the story. Highly controversial. This is a contracted work, expect to unlock chapters. Season 1's standards differ greatly. Drama seekers, toxic bitches and overly-sensitive folks who cannot chillax not welcomed. Author also has indemnity to typo, grammar mistakes and English bugs throughout the story. You have been warned. Proceed with caution and enjoy. *** Note: Please check out new contracted work Monarch of Solitude if you liked the author's work. Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/destinyaitsuji Discord: https://discord.gg/UrtDMXn
After the feast, Gerald and Vrald excused themselves. Nobody stopped them. It was obvious that the swordsmen were going back to sharpen their swords before the battle. Unlike Camie and Clowis' match, neither of them wanted to dull their blades. As true swordsmen, they would compete fair and square. There were no tricks like the previous match. This was a match about skills and ethics.
The two dragon descendants didn't speak. Olaf had made them a promise to teach them art if they proved their worth during the match. Neither ex-adventurer wanted to lose the chance. However, they didn't want to lose to each other either. After working together for so long, they knew each other so well like blood brothers.