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A Thread of Broken Fate

“You can bring back everyone you’ve lost. It will only cost your sanity.” The king is dead, murdered by an interloper from the future—a manic copy of his own son, hellbent on forcibly reversing a disastrous timeline. The true Damian Roswald—a hedonistic crown prince bereft of magical talent—finds his comfortable life upended by his father’s murder and assassins from his own future. “There are none left who can judge us, so we must be our own executioner. That is the cursed fate of those few named Damian Roswald.” With politicians plotting his demise, his royal cousins scheming for the empty throne, and warring churches tearing the grieving city apart, Damian must accept the tragedy of his countless futures—or else, find himself doomed to repeat them. But can a mere mortal decide their own fate in a world governed by almighty angels? “Find me, Damian Roswald. And I’ll tell you why the stars fell.” For three centuries, even the wisest men have accepted that the night sky was once populated by ‘stars’—until a terrible calamity plunged mankind into a Dark Age. From the darkness, the Roswalds rose to power, but few know that the first crown was forged with the blood of a slaughtered god… Damian must endure countless tragedies and the consequences of his own future actions to reach the peace he desires—but could the true threat be hiding not in his future, but in his own distant past? **Join our Discord and never miss a chapter!! https://discord.gg/M5cTyzW44Q**

BrettMichaelOrr · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
145 Chs
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kickback (3).

Maria Frost reeled backwards, a ribbon of scarlet spiraling away from her chest.

A victorious thrill surged through Damian's body, adrenaline feeding the bloodlust frenzy with which he'd propelled himself through the fight. On this macabre battlefield, with three superhuman fighters exhausted and pushed beyond the brink of their body's capabilities, finally, the battle had come to an end.

Frost cartwheeled her arms in a motion that would've been comical if she were not splattered in the gore of her slain enemies. Her whip dissolved into motes of darkness, scattering on an invisible wind. Her expression was aghast, her brows furrowed in confusion, as though she couldn't fathom how she'd been bested. 

With a great sigh of relief, Damian lowered his twin Feathers—

"No! It's a trap—!!"