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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

Lab

An old man was seen walking towards the only mansion in the village where the lord resided, with a bulging sack hung on his back, which had hunched as he struggled to walk with so much weight on his back.

The guards guarding the gates of the mansion noticed old man Lee arrive, smiled and let him in, since the old man was a cook from the mansion, who went out whenever he wasn't cooking for the lord to grill some skewers and sell them to the villagers, and since he would always return by the time the lord had to be served a meal, they didn't bother with what he did in his free time.

"Good work today too" Old man Lee greeted the guards as he put down the sack, untied it to grab a few skewers he had brought with him to give it to the servants working for the same lord he served, in the mansion.

"You have brought the vegetables from the market by yourself, once again" A guard commented with a smile as he took the four meat skewers given to him.