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Tales of the Kingslayer

The lights inside the train flickered, and Heon was suddenly alone, saved from a dead body missing an arm and a mysterious cloaked man. He was trapped in the train running circle. A loop without a stop. The mysterious cloaked man proposed a deal. He would stop the train for Heon, but only after retrieving a missing key in the other realm. Accepting it, Heon woke up with a newly-attached black hand formerly belonged to the dead body on the train. He was teleported to a world of magic and sword. One where the most powerful king was murdered, and the blood-thirsty queen hunted for the assassin. Unfortunately, he found drawings of his face plastered all over the city. Wanted: Dead or Alive. Heon Lightwalker - the Kingslayer. At least, he got Sunny; an alleged murderer slash healer mage, and Azran; a bounty hunter who now stuck by his side due to unwanted association with him. Hopefully, they could survive the kingdom-wide manhunt. But, how would he find the key to fulfill his deal, when the key was going to be used to release the Great End? Was exchanging a key to his own real world equal to ending this parallel one?

Aliast · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
74 Chs

A Talk with the Queen

But his sight was clear. He could still see Azaleh – who then followed him in face-planting on the ground. The difference was the tall and dark man was out cold with his indifference eyes closed. Unlike him.

Someone grabbed his now mostly white hair. It hurt, but whoever that was didn't care much. They dragged him up and he feared that the roots of his hair would snap. Leaving him with a bald patch.

Some grunts left his lips, along with some drools as he was unable to even close his mouth. Thankfully, he could still blink – albeit with a little effort.

Hands and legs forcefully being dragged across the hard ground, Heon caught glimpses as they went past Azaleh and some guards. They didn't stop until they were in front of several pairs of leather boots with steeled soles.

"I want to speak with the Queen," the person then lifted Heon's head with the tight grip they got on his white hair. The voice achingly familiar that he couldn't help but wonder–

"Sunny Graver?"

"That's me."