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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

Heather coloured....

The next morning.

As expected, Marken, together with the Elemental heirs, the dragon rulers' last child, Elven rulers' last child, and even the Dwarfs rulers' last child, were put together into Class-S, which was inhabited only by the above mentioned young ones.

An entire class for 11 people; 7 of them being young women.

Oh, as a matter of fact, an entire class was created to teach them, as the class, [Class-S] didn't even exist before today.

As boring as it seemed, that class was said to be the one with the most potential to become the most "troublesome class." Since most, if not, all of the current generation's geniuses were put together in a single class.

It was currently midday.

Ithil had ran into the person she wanted to meet yet avoid the most, the first thing in the morning which was pleasant till she came across that man.

BA-THUMP!