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Garden of the Abyss

Transported into another world, professional shut-in, Ren Nakamura, expects a path of ludicrous powers, fame, and glory; the classic tale of an otherworld hero saving a doomed world from the conquest of a tyrannical, almighty demon king. --What he receives instead, is a harsh reality check. Betrayed, beaten, and humiliated, he quickly learns the true nature of this world: it doesn’t cater to him in the slightest. Inept, gullible, and unsociable, he must cultivate himself into a proper person, if he hopes to survive in the ravenous world of Gaia. In a twisted, yet fantastical world of magic, knights, and dragons that persecutes otherworlders, Ren must overcome his “level zero” start and cultivate himself into someone capable of fighting off the obstacles of Gaia. The otherworlder-hunting Argonauts, the world-loathing cultists, and even the very aspects of sin themselves; these are just the tip of the iceberg on the troubles that await him on his journey. But it’s a harsh, cruel world filled with misery and darkness; he can’t do it alone. Friends are made, friends are lost--that is the nature of the path he must walk. This is not the story of a blessed, perfect hero, but of a flawed, young man who has to shed his weaknesses. Together, witness his journey into becoming not just a proper hero, but a proper human. — DISCORD: https://discord.gg/ph6qfFknqe -- If you want to support the author: https://ko-fi.com/delzgb https://paypal.me/delzgb --- Cover done by Izu

DelzGB · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
544 Chs

Interlude: Mind, Body, and Sword I

The outskirts of the acclaimed capital of Mastorn, though it draws near the immensely-powerful maw of the kingdom, the wild, natural land remains untamed to this day. A region of danger and fear in the hearts of everyday men; a region of opportunity for those of strength.

"I appreciate it; the "Knight of Knights" himself showing me the ropes."

Taking care not to sully the stainless, white boots he wore along with his matching trousers, Charlemagne stepped over the puddle of mud, pushing past the low-hanging limbs of the ancient trees. Leading the way was a man dressed in similar garments in the form of an opulent, snow-white uniform with the royal palette to match Mastorn.

He was a man that could not be mistaken for another; the massive blade that laid in rest at his hip, etched with the design of gilded wings. Turning back briefly to meet Charlemagne, his smile was gentle yet somehow weighed heavier than others; it was utmost confidence.