webnovel

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

One Last Try

Apollo didn't think much of the whistling sound, but instinctively tilted his head to the side anyway.

A violent gust of wind passed by. It tore through the air loudly, almost like a woman in a horror movie shrieking. Although it left Apollo unscathed, his ear still felt uncomfortable.

It was as though another him in a parallel universe told him how much it would hurt if he got hit.

Nonetheless, Apollo shot towards Mark, attempting to close the gap once more. As he did so, several faint whistling sounds filled the air. Knowing better than to ignore them, Apollo paid close attention to each.

His chest shot forth, while his head pulled back. A gust of wind passed right by his back, causing his clothes to flutter.

Apollo then twisted his body to the side and raised his hand.