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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_ · Hiện thực
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
276 Chs

The Undead Dungeon

In the throne room, Beorhtric Greene De Dasiris, the Emperor of the Dasiris Empire, gazed down at the six figures donned in comfortable yet luxurious clothing that was available in the palace. In that room, except for 7 of them, Eadwulf, the Elemental Dukes, quite a few number of knights, and mages were also present in the room, gazing at the six people kneeling on one knee.

"You have claimed to have been teleported into our world by a strange magic that devoured our village, is that correct?" Beorhtric questioned, the pair of women and four men, who had their head lowered, trembling at the powerful ripple causing words of the Emperor, whom they were seeing for the first in real life.

"Y-yes, Your Majesty." A man with a slender built replied politely, remembering the dialogues exchanged in [Last Life].

'Damn, seeing how they treated us for the past few days, I forgot what kind of a person this sick son of a bitch is!' He thought inwardly.