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Divine Beast of Episteme

Kaos, the building block of the universes, the galaxies, the stars, the planets, and every lifeform. An energy capable of achieving feats only considered magical, wonderous, fantastical. The essence of Gods! Here we are on the planet of Nepiter, the skies turned red, the oceans dried up, the mountains crumbled, the continents fractured, and the very skies shattered. These were the characteristics of the cataclysmic event known as the Entry. An event that spelled a new era for all of civilization. As history would have it, creatures of terrible might arose to challenge the supremacy of humans, and as such, those worthy of power equally great emerged to rescale the fields of battle. They were called the "Inheritors". "Touch and power shall be yours." The promise told to those who went before the great crystals. A gift from the world to combat the new threat. The very vessels of that which they sought--unlocking the pathway into their spirit to harness the might of Kaos. Prophecy spoke of a time when the influence of Inheritors would soar beyond those of the days of old, and the new generational humans would reclaim dominion over their terraformed planet. However, only then would perilous times; never again seen since the beginning of the Entry, manifest. For a forgotten child, reborn of the great spirit would emerge to restart an ancient war. One that shook the second heavens. Tristan, a broken boy from ages past came in contact with a certain being and his life changed forever. Or so he thought. ----------------------- Disclaimer: The cover does not belong to me.

Adamoforder · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
137 Chs

127. Ten-Thousand Punches

"What do you do when you are in a fierce battle and you've lost your weapon to either damage or have had it knocked out of your grip? Do you cower in fear and flee for your life? Or do you raise your hands? The primary weapon we were all given from birth?"

Professor Severo spoke, addressing the entire class sitting on the ground below him. He himself remained afloat, describing each word with his hands. His expression was light and so was his tone. His eyes scanned and swept their figures, but none felt danger.

"There is a popular saying that goes this way. Beware of your fists, for they can be more potent than a sword. Or the other one that says; rather than search for your lost blade during battle, use your hands. For the gods have blessed them."

"These two sayings, have a simple meaning, which I know you all are intelligent enough to decode. They simply give glory to the power than our mere palms can achieve," he explained, pausing.