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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
283 Chs

Dukes Of Darkness (2)

In a hallway decorated with carpets, paintings, tables, flower vases, scented candles, and chandeliers.

A pair of men with strikingly similar structural features walked, with the younger man walking a step behind the old man. The pair were clad in black with black suits, with the old man adorning his suit with black silver and transparent gemed cufflinks and brooch, the younger man wore ones with purple gems.

As they neared the end of the hallway, a door stood imposingly, guarded by a pair of armoured guards, who stood solemnly.

Even though the Dukes Of Darkness had arrived and stood in front of doors, neither did they move to announce their names nor did they open the door for them, their behaviour was outrageously disrespectful considering the pair in front of them were Nobles of the Empire, Dukes to the boot.

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