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The Forsaken Sovereign

"The veil of sanity is a lie we tell ourselves when we gaze at the night sky, hoping, in a stifled corner of our mind, that the stars aren't gazing back." — A nameless, insignificant, yet ambitious young man once attempted to rescue his family from poverty. But as he found hope, he also stumbled upon despair. After losing everything to the darkness of death, including himself, he woke up in another world, stuck in the body of an eleven-year-old boy with a peculiar appearance. He soon discovered that he was a Celestial Offering—a holy sacrifice, carefully groomed by the Temple of Stars to be given to the Gods Beyond. His fate had already been sealed, for his blood would spill under the seven-pointed star and consecrate the birth of a new era for his nation. Armed with nothing but his wit and the trail of good fortune, he would attempt to challenge this destiny, braving the countless hurdles that lay in waiting and the unfathomable horrors they harbored. In a realm of magecraft, occult rituals, madness, and prowling Eidolons, he could only count on himself to survive, as the threat of insanity loomed over everyone equally, and nothing could slow its ineluctable embrace. — Discord: Naphulae#1813

Naphulae · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
203 Chs

Harmonia Lyrae

Tristram quickly left The Glaudium after thanking the strange duo. 

The presence of the little boy, in particular, had been unnerving enough to make him want to flee the moment he opened his eyes. Still, he couldn't help but stay and talk to him, like an urge that crawled out of his deepest instincts. 

He felt awe, expectation, and reverence, yet didn't know why. The boy called Meilyr couldn't have been stronger than an Occultist, but the gap between them seemed wider than what it really should have been.

Memories flickered in his mind of the first magus that had aided him—the red sky, the scorched soil, and his burning eyes as he cackled from a scrying too dangerous.

"Your path will come," he had screamed amidst agony and epiphany. "My death is the price," he then declared, his body slowly withering. 

Tristram shook his head, dismissing those thoughts.