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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

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276 Chs

The Dirty Waters

Wails, sobs, and enraged howls accompanied by the crumbling sounds of the recently wrecked houses of hundreds, who now bore the moniker of homelessness.

A sombre atmosphere enveloped the capital Deron of the Dasiris Empire, with most of its commoners suffering from the night's dread, while wailing for their loved ones, whom they lost at that despairing matter of minutes no human could defend against.

Marching steps and sounds of mana swirling furiously trickled the ears of the despairing.

Knights marching out of the whitish purple portals, from the Royal Palace, quickly breezed through the capital within a matter of hours, collecting reports from the stationed guards, guilds, and adventurers about the phenomenon that brought forth a calamity, on yesterday's night they spent sleepless.

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