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The Blind Swordsman.

A tragedy... An abrupt departure... Death... And rebirth. Pain, rage, struggle, and blood honed a sword. A sword sharp enough to sever through reality and reveal what lies beyond. It unveiled something, Or rather, someone, incomprehensible and unprecedented.... A being who seems to weave the threads of fate. Does he truly exist, or is he merely a manifestation of another's will? If he does exist, what purpose does he serve? Is there really a purpose, or is it just another will imposed upon him? If it is another's will, can he defy it? Can he turn his sword against his creator, A being who literally writes his reality? Or will he be consumed by the abyss from which his power flows, Forever lost in the shifting void of his own making?

_Eshwar_ · Realistic
Not enough ratings
276 Chs

After the 'First Class' [Bonus Chapter]

"Alfred Winter" Ken mumbled, facing the white haired and blue eyed man in front of him.

"What should I call you now?" Alfred questioned with a smile.

"Prof. Mark" Ken stated resolutely.

"You....seriously, haaa...." Alfred sighed at Ken's cold shoulder, but having gotten used to it, he didn't really mind; but he would have minded and would have been terrified out of his wits, had Ken said that he could talk to him normally.

"Then, shall we start, PROFESSOR. MARK?" Alfred said, sarcastically.

"Very well" Ken said, ignoring his sarcasm.

A bone chilling air immediately burst out of Alfred before that chilling air spiralled to create a spear in his grip. Alfred immediately rushed towards Ken, with an ice blue, translucent spear in his grip, and thrust it at Ken's chest upon getting him into his offence range.