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Sustaining the King's Life

COMPLETED. (WARNING: R18 on chapter 200+ onwards. This is a SLOW BURN ROMANCE. Read at your own risk.) ** On a secluded mountain situated upon a kingdom known as Feuersturm, resides a seemingly trifling cabin with an unlikely duo as its inhabitant—a witch, and her apprentice who presumably comes from a clan sought after by slave traders. Faustina is a sixteen-year-old girl who fled the slave market with the help of a sickly witch named Eula, who later on trained her as an apprentice for the span of seven years. Plagued with a mysterious disease for several years, Eula died despite the efforts Faustina had exerted to cure her; in her last breath, she left an odd request behind. "Sustain the king's life. This is your duty. Do not adhere to the prophecy." To which the odd plea shadowed a bizarre series of events, a consequential sentence; similar to that of a premonition. The same night the phrase was muttered, the chain of events followed: A warlock's intrusion to their home, with a peculiar yearning to resurrect Eula from the dead... and the king himself, asking for Faustina’s aid.

Chainslock · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
284 Chs

What is happening here?

Alexander Octavius IX. 

The ninth king of Feuersturm. 

He was sitting beside Faustina, looking at the sea with sapphire blue eyes deep in thought. 

The moonlight was gleaming against the vast oceans. The world was quiet; the air, which was as cold and crisp as fresh apple, felt good against Faustina's face. She turned towards the king. He bore a different air today, as if he was contemplating about something. He also acted oddly, which made Faustina wonder how things are going in Feuersturm.

"I used to come here to investigate the Forsaken, hoping to cross paths with him again." The king murmured. "Hoping to put an end to all of this."

The king wasn't wearing his usual luxurious fur robe—he only wore outdoor clothes, though it still had marked how he had a considerably high authority. But seeing him like this made Faustina wonder how much a person's appearance didn't matter, as long as they bore the same elegance and sophistication.