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Shadow of the Abyss

The Old Gods are gone. Lost and Forgotten, their honor shattered and their kingdoms broken by treachery. The Peace of the Myriad Heavens has been severed. And from the ashes of war and chaos, the Twin Towers of Babel have been created as a beacon of hope. Can Altair, a child born of the Old Gods whose name has long since been forgotten, survive, or will he be cast into the Nine Hells? *** "So..." Arsene continued, enjoying his child's flush expression. "I've got a few things to teach you. What I'm about to give you is some peak wisdom. Think of it as my Ten Commandments: One, never trust a bitch with red hair. Trust me on this. Two, the pull-out game is not a real thing. She will get pregnant. Three—" "F-Father…" " —Never get yourself more than one wife. It sounds fun. It is fun. But it's truly a nightmare. You better be writing this stuff down. This is some grade-A wisdom right here. Four. "...Please stop talking…" The Prince pleaded. "Shhhhh. Just let this happen. Four…Bro's before hoes isn't a thing. The hoes come first. Remember, Booty is more important than Wa— " "STOP!!!!!"

Lord_Damocles · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
454 Chs

Festival of Chaos: Chaos Lords

Made to bow, Varquess's fingers bit at his clenched fists. He wanted to scream to curse, but before his Lady, he could only force a smile. He had offered his everything to the hells. His soul, his body, and his pride. And now it seemed even the kingdom he desired was falling through his fingers like sand. 

"Kingslayer," Altair spoke up, measuring the man in a sort of different light. The last time he had seen him, he seemed so insurmountable, annihilating Forwin in a single stroke of his sword. Now? Now, he seemed small. He could smell the stench of the hells upon him. Eating away at his body and soul. 

'What was a man without a soul?' he wondered, unable to even pretend what was before him was a king. Altair could not deny Varquess was powerful. But was simply being powerful enough to be a king?

Where was his regal might? His poised eyes? The mere image of the man made him sick.