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The Laughing Swordsman

Only when all the living perish, will there be peace ... Apollo was a bratty noble. Using the power of his father, he did many mischievous stunts. However, he would never go too far. The worst he did was steal someone's shoe, while on the average, it would be poking them in the back and running off. That's why he found it so absurd that someone would assassinate him, in his own room no less. He was stabbed in the back and left to die... But then he was back in his room, completely fine. Yet, he was stabbed in the back once again. Once he was stabbed in the back for the third time, the cruel reality began to sink in. That this would repeat itself for an eternity. The only thing in his room was his bed and his bokken, a wooden sword. At some point, Apollo picked up the bokken. He took his first steps to break out of the cycle. And swore to bury the person who called for this assassin with his own hands. ...But also calls a lot of things mommy for some reason.

Disgrace · Fantasi
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372 Chs

Rhys and Rhea

"Waaaaah!~"

Layla was traveling through the air rapidly, as though she were tearing apart the sky itself.

There was a blissful smile on her face, one that lived for embracing the moment. And embrace the moment she did.

Layla was holding two houses, one ankle in each hand. She violently swung them around while in the air, decimating other houses along with the ones she held. Countless crashes resounded around Layla while debris scattered within the air, even more so than the snow.

Like a meteor, Layla slammed into the ground, forming a miniature crater. The only thing left of the two houses she held was a small stub.

Layla tossed the stubs to the side. Her furry ears perked up.

"So much fun with so many friends!"

The houses paid the most attention to Layla, compared to the rest of her companions. In fact, over ten houses were currently facing Layla as the light they emitted rapidly brightened.