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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

If I Ever See You Again

Vicar looked at Willow with melancholy. It was almost like disappointment was seeping out in waves out of his eyes.

Like the hope in his heart on the verge of death had finally died.

His expression was unbearably cold, like emotion did not matter to him anymore.

"I thought that if nobody else, you would not be like them."

Vicar shook his head.

"But I was naive."

Willow grit her teeth.

"What? Like all the raven people? You think we don't deserve to live compared to you because of your white hair?"

Vicar narrowed his eyes.

"No. All of you. You are all the same. The only thing that distinguished you were appearances. In the end, all of your hearts are the same..."

He frowned.

"Disgusting."

Willow screamed.

"What do you know? You know nothing! All you've been doing is living in your privileged palace!"

Vicar raised an eyebrow.