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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_ · สมจริง
Not enough ratings
276 Chs

Too cute

Surprisingly finding it far more harder than expected, the woman held her partner's arm for support as she strode with an awkward gait that garnered the attention of many around them, but as intimate as the couple seemed under that evening shine, the woman just wanted her man's support to even walk like that.

"I never knew that I would one day regret calling somebody as a company, for walking in these busy streets....." Thistle mumbled while walking in an awkward gait.

"Is that so"

Hearing Ken's bland response, "..... Well, whose fault do you think it is?" She questioned with a subtle pout.

"I wasn't the one who started it"

"T-that!"

"...."

".....Hmph" Huffing in disbelief, Thistle continued to guide him towards the Traven she brought her liquor from.