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The Forsaken Sovereign

"The veil of sanity is a lie we tell ourselves when we gaze at the night sky, hoping, in a stifled corner of our mind, that the stars aren't gazing back." — A nameless, insignificant, yet ambitious young man once attempted to rescue his family from poverty. But as he found hope, he also stumbled upon despair. After losing everything to the darkness of death, including himself, he woke up in another world, stuck in the body of an eleven-year-old boy with a peculiar appearance. He soon discovered that he was a Celestial Offering—a holy sacrifice, carefully groomed by the Temple of Stars to be given to the Gods Beyond. His fate had already been sealed, for his blood would spill under the seven-pointed star and consecrate the birth of a new era for his nation. Armed with nothing but his wit and the trail of good fortune, he would attempt to challenge this destiny, braving the countless hurdles that lay in waiting and the unfathomable horrors they harbored. In a realm of magecraft, occult rituals, madness, and prowling Eidolons, he could only count on himself to survive, as the threat of insanity loomed over everyone equally, and nothing could slow its ineluctable embrace. — Discord: Naphulae#1813

Naphulae · 奇幻
分數不夠
197 Chs

Beneath the Cracks

Shivers went down Meilyr's spine as he glanced back for a mere second, discovering the frames of bark-laden figures looming over him.

Men, women, and elders looked down on him with a petrifying smile—a long, crooked one, not unlike that of Father Agathon's moving corpse. That was the etched mark of vicious madness, a spawn from the Vile Ichor's corruption.

Meilyr's Mana flared in panic, but he remembered Alwina's warnings, giving him pause. That brief opening alone was enough for them to drag him down, sprawling him on the dirt with the huffing and puffing of perverted elation.

Power glimmered from beneath his grayish skin, strengthening his limbs as he struggled against their hold.

In that fleeting moment, he seemed to hear:

"Hush now, O child of beyond. Thee shall be birthed anew, in mine cradle and womb. Doth thou not remember the soil?"

Tick.