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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

Fallen Giant

The black dragon muttered despondently.

"It appears I will lose a follower..."

It closed its eyes.

"I am sorry, Noctis..."

The black head's dragon gradually disintegrated into a black mist.

"But you simply chose someone far too terrifying as your opponent."

After just a couple of seconds, the only thing left from the dragon's body was black mist. Like a whirlpool, it violently gathered towards Hex's black and wrinkly hand.

Despite the large amount of black mist, it all disappeared as though Hex's hand was a black hole.

Hex giggled.

"All the same..."

In the middle of the city, at a luxurious watchtower, someone watched this scene unfold.

It was an old man. He was sitting in a well polished wooden chair. One of his eyes was closed while the other was open all the way. He had short grey hair and a modest beard. While his hair made his old age clear, there wasn't a single wrinkle on his face.