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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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
372 Chs

A Charade

Several wooden spikes rapidly closed in on Apollo. They were not only sturdy, but would follow his path, making them very difficult to dodge.

Apollo was able to handle one wooden spike, but not two.

He looked towards the black flame match he was holding onto by pinching from under his clothes. The majority of the match had been burnt through, but still enough to last a decent amount of time.

Without hesitation, he grabbed onto the match.

Apollo's vision beyond ten meters immediately disappeared while he himself disappeared from Otis' vision.

The wooden spikes continued forth towards his last location, but since they were no longer tracking him, Apollo easily flew out of the way.

Otis clenched his fist.

"Show yourself, coward!"

He was a bit of a hypocrite considering Otis was hiding within the foliage, but the technicalities weren't too important to him right now.