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The Laughing Swordsman

Only when all the living perish, will there be peace ... Apollo was a bratty noble. Using the power of his father, he did many mischievous stunts. However, he would never go too far. The worst he did was steal someone's shoe, while on the average, it would be poking them in the back and running off. That's why he found it so absurd that someone would assassinate him, in his own room no less. He was stabbed in the back and left to die... But then he was back in his room, completely fine. Yet, he was stabbed in the back once again. Once he was stabbed in the back for the third time, the cruel reality began to sink in. That this would repeat itself for an eternity. The only thing in his room was his bed and his bokken, a wooden sword. At some point, Apollo picked up the bokken. He took his first steps to break out of the cycle. And swore to bury the person who called for this assassin with his own hands. ...But also calls a lot of things mommy for some reason.

Disgrace · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
372 Chs

A Crown

The debris of the explosion cleared to reveal something that resembled a set of twigs.

Apollo.

His charred body hung in the air listlessly. Thin tendrils of his black skin swayed with the wind and the texture of his flesh could be mistaken for bark on a tree.

His head and limbs drooped down lifelessly, with the exception of one arm. The arm that held the bokken high.

However, despite stubbornly holding on, it was hard to believe he was still alive from his appearance.

In fact, Oddryl himself was essentially certain Apollo had died. He had already cast his gaze towards the other members of his group.

Hex stared at Apollo's body with a bit of remorse. A small pout formed on his face.

"Time short. But me will miss friend..."

Willow's eyes widened with shock. Part of her didn't believe that this was reality.

"No... Apollo!"

Perhaps the only person that still believed he was living... was Layla.