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The Blind Swordsman.

A tragedy... An abrupt departure... Death... And rebirth. Pain, rage, struggle, and blood honed a sword. A sword sharp enough to sever through reality and reveal what lies beyond. It unveiled something, Or rather, someone, incomprehensible and unprecedented.... A being who seems to weave the threads of fate. Does he truly exist, or is he merely a manifestation of another's will? If he does exist, what purpose does he serve? Is there really a purpose, or is it just another will imposed upon him? If it is another's will, can he defy it? Can he turn his sword against his creator, A being who literally writes his reality? Or will he be consumed by the abyss from which his power flows, Forever lost in the shifting void of his own making?

_Eshwar_ · 現実
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276 Chs

Mithrandir: [Sword Emperor] [Bonus Chapter]

At a cliff's edge, which towered over the dense clouds of Miorus, an extremely handsome, pale golden haired man with elongated ears sat cross legged, donning nothing except for a dhoti.

Space around the man twisted and mended itself constantly while the palms which rested over his knees twitched frivolously as reality defying pixels of genesis flickered over his palms, assimilating into his body under his constant cultivation of his prowess in response to that bottled void and bubbling rage within his heart that only increased by the second passing; unbecoming of a person whose strengths peered into the realms higher than Miorus, which could be considered a neutral or middle realm of sorts.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmm....

The twisted reality around him hummed constantly, while his own jade coloured mana constantly flared to coil and maintain a globe around him at all times.