Prologue (Tartaglia Von Chrono)
In the land of Impeldom, nestled amidst rolling hills and lush green meadows, stood the grand castle that housed the revered King, Tartaglia Von Chrono. His kingdom, bathed in the golden light of prosperity, was renowned for its unwavering devotion to the goddess Evangelist, the deity of luck, reincarnation, and fate. Tartaglia, once a wretched slum child, had ascended to this noble position through a divine intervention that would forever shape his destiny.
At the tender age of 12, Tartaglia's life took an unexpected turn when he caught the goddess's attention. Evangelist, moved by his unwavering spirit and the indomitable will that had sustained him through his darkest days, anointed him as her apostle. From that moment on, Tartaglia became the living embodiment of the goddess's will, forever bound to her divine purpose.
As a symbol of his newfound responsibility and the power bestowed upon him, Tartaglia was gifted the Holy Sword Damocles. This legendary weapon, bathed in an otherworldly radiance, possessed a pure white blade that shimmered with a brilliance rivalling the sun. The sword's sheath, adorned with intricate engravings and delicate white chains, served as a protective casing and a vessel to contain the immense power emanating from the blade.
However, Tartaglia's journey toward becoming a king was not solitary. Alongside his appointment as the Evangelist's apostle, The Evangelist chose a wise and noble mentor to guide him on his path to kingship. This mentor, Sir Arcturus, was a revered Grand Holy Paladin renowned for his unwavering faith, righteous deeds, and deep understanding of leadership.
Sir Arcturus saw great potential in Tartaglia, recognizing his unwavering spirit, quick intellect, and capacity to lead. Sir Arcturus dedicated himself to shaping the young apostle into a wise and just ruler. He taught Tartaglia about kingship, imparting knowledge on governance, diplomacy, and the delicate balance of power.
Beyond politics, Sir Arcturus also trained Tartaglia in combat and strategy. He honed his skills with the Holy Sword Damocles, teaching him the art of swordsmanship and the tactical acumen required for leading armies into battle. Tartaglia learned to harness the divine energy flowing through him and the mana in the air, channeling it into powerful strikes and protective barriers.
But Tartaglia's abilities extended far beyond his possession of the Holy Sword. The years of abuse and suffering he endured as a slum child left an indelible mark on his soul, birthing a unique and awe-inspiring power within him. Deep within his being, a reality marble took shape—an ethereal realm where time bowed to his will. Within this alternate reality, Tartaglia held dominion over the flow of time, allowing him to manipulate time in his proximity and his own body.
Though Tartaglia was known for his extreme calmness and composed demeanor, his eyes concealed a profound ruthlessness reserved solely for those who stood against his goals. His foes, faced with the wrath of the apostle, were met with a relentless and calculated onslaught. Yet, in the presence of those he deemed unworthy or lowly, Tartaglia wore a mask of indifference, concealing his true feelings and maintaining an air of detachment. The world saw him as a formidable leader and an enigmatic figure, never suspecting the simmering disdain he harbored for the goddess who had raised him to such exalted heights.
Tartaglia possesses a youthful countenance, with sharp, piercing eyes that gleam with determination and hidden emotions. His eyes are a vibrant shade of gold, reminiscent of the purest gold one can attain. They hold a depth and intensity that hint at his burdens. His face is adorned with defined features that exude strength and grace, while his meticulously shaped brows convey a sense of focus and authority.
Tartaglia's hair, a clear holy, pure white, falls in a slightly tousled manner, framing his face in a stylish yet effortless way. His hair is of medium length, extending just below his ears, with strands occasionally brushing against his forehead, accentuating his sharp gaze.
Standing in the 6,0 range, Tartaglia possesses a lean and athletic physique reflecting his years of combat training and prowess. His posture is upright and confident, befitting a ruler of his stature. Every movement he makes, whether a swift stride or a poised stance, carries an air of purpose and self-assuredness.
Tartaglia's choice of attire aligns with his position of power and the symbolic significance he carries. He wears regal garments crafted from refined fabrics adorned with intricate designs and elegant embroideries. A cloak drapes over his shoulders, its rich fabric flowing behind him as he walks, all mixed with white, tan, and gold, symbolizing his authority and majesty.
And to finish it off, Tartaglia's face is completely hidden behind a full mask, intricately crafted by the Goddess Evangelist to obscure his features entirely. The mask is an enigmatic work of art, meticulously designed to conceal his face and maintain an aura of mystery around his identity.
The mask was Made from a smooth, lightweight material; it molds seamlessly to Tartaglia's facial contours, exposing no trace of his true appearance. It extends from the top of his forehead to his chin, covering his entire face with precision and leaving no room for glimpses of his features.
The surface of the mask is adorned with ornate patterns and delicate engravings, showcasing the divine craftsmanship that went into its creation. Its coloration is a combination of gold, subtly reflecting light to give it an otherworldly sheen. Despite its concealing nature, the mask exudes an air of mystery, hinting at the captivating handsomeness that lies hidden beneath.
By the age of 17, Tartaglia had carved a path of conquest across the vast expanse of Europe. His infamy soared, and his victories in battle became the stuff of legends whispered in hushed tones. He had faced countless foes, vanquishing them with his indomitable leadership and extraordinary prowess with the sword. His skills with a blade rivalled even the greatest swordsmen of old, his strikes swift and precise, cutting through the air with almost ethereal grace.
Yet, even for a king of his stature, fate can be a fickle mistress. On a fateful day, amidst the heat of a climactic battle against the remaining forces of Europe, Sir Arcturus met his ultimate demise. The enemy, driven to desperation by the relentless tide of his King's conquests, struck back with a ferocity that matched their dire situation.
Five legendary swordsmen, known throughout the land as the embodiment of martial prowess, were summoned to challenge Tartaglia. These renowned warriors, each with their unique styles and unmatched skills, converged on the battlefield with a singular purpose—to bring down the King of Impeldom.
So they captured Sir Arcturus, held him captive in front of Tartaglia and called for his surrender and capture. And when Tartaglia was going to step forwards, Sir Arcturus got out of his restraints. He killed the fifth swordsman Heretical Berserker by grabbing his short axe then decapitating him, ending the fifth legendary swordsman in the same motion shadow-blade and stabbing Sir Arcturus in the heart; the expression Sir Arcturus made was smiling at Tartaglia and saying unidentifiable words from an outsider perspective.
Tartaglia went into a rage rushing at the legendary swordsman with an inhuman speed, almost disappearing right before their eye's before appearing right in front of one and attacking with an enraged expression plastered across his face before stopping and analyzing his form.
The first swordsman, a towering figure known as the "Iron Wall," boasted impenetrable defenses and unmatched strength. His strikes were like thunder, shaking the ground with each swing of his massive blade. But Tartaglia, guided by his foresight and empowered by the divine energy coursing through his veins, anticipated the Iron Wall's every move. He evaded the swordsman's attacks with strategic precision and lightning-fast reflexes, exploiting the smallest openings in his defense. Tartaglia unleashed a devastating strike in a final clash, shattering the Iron Wall's sword and leaving him defenseless before delivering the final blow.
The second swordsman, renowned as the "Whirling Tempest," was a whirlwind of unmatched speed and agility. His strikes were a blur, and his movements were almost too swift for the eye to follow. But Tartaglia said words that activated the mana in the air, "Chosen few, witness my Garden's embrace", and slowed the world around him, allowing him to perceive the Whirling Tempest's every action. He evaded the swordsman's strikes with calculated precision, countering with his own swift and deadly attacks. Blow after blow rained down upon the Whirling Tempest until he could no longer stand, defeated and broken.
The third swordsman, the "Shadowblade," was a master of stealth and deception. His attacks were precise, striking from the shadows with deadly accuracy. But Tartaglia, his senses honed by years of hardship and suffering, saw through the Shadowblade's veil of darkness. Activating his reality marble with mana-filled words, "Chosen few, behold my Garden's embrace, Revealed mysteries, time's enigmatic trace"., he bathed the battlefield in his marbles mana, appearing in front of the surprised Shadowblade, seemingly teleporting. With graceful and fluid movements, Tartaglia outmaneuvered Shadowblades, counterattacking each dodge with unwavering precision. In a pivotal clash, Shadowblade fell, his body pierced by Tartaglia's shining blade.
The fourth and final swordsman, a figure of legendary status revered as the "Radiant Knight," possessed an aura of unwavering resolve and unparalleled honor. His strikes were as brilliant as the sun, his defense impenetrable. The clash between Tartaglia and the Radiant Knight was a sight to behold, their blades colliding with a force that sent shockwaves through the battlefield. Yet, Tartaglia's foresight granted him the advantage. He anticipated the Radiant Knight's every move, countering his attacks with swift and devastating precision. With one final, resolute strike, he brought down the Radiant Knight, the clash of their blades resonating as a testament to their unparalleled skill.
However, Victory came at a significant cost. Tartaglia, wounded from the relentless battles and with his mana nearly depleted, found himself unable to feel the Victory in his at this win, looking up and Seeing his mentor still clinging to life with his divine symbol in his hands, Tartaglia spent the rest of his mana and said "Chosen few, behold my Garden's embrace, Revealed mysteries, time's enigmatic trace" and appeared next to Sir Arcturus. As he lay on the bloodstained ground, his breathing shallow and his heart fading, a bittersweet smile graced his face. Tartaglia's eyes began to fill with tears dripping through his mask, and he questioned, "Why... Why did you resist?" his voice breaking. Sir Arcturus laughed as the mana that sealed his heart was coming undone. "My King", he breathes in deeply, "the future King of Fate kneels to no one except The Holy Mother. It would be an offence to her, her people, and me." Tartaglia stops then, takes off his mask then, say's "You religious types are crazy", and makes his best attempt at a smile; Arcturus eye's looks into his Kin... his son's eyes, and says ", One day you will learn to forgive The Holy Mother and cast away that hate you have in your heart, but even then I will be with you.. next to you as you age and outgrow me" Tartaglia looks down to see the pouring of the rest of his mentor's blood, Arcturus eye's go blank as words flow out of his mouth "For you are the one who rules fate and because of that my many paths will always be with yours" his breathing holts as his eyes grow dim it was the Holy Kings adviser, teacher and father died for what he believed his King was capable of.
Tartaglia stood there on the battlefield in silence and then glanced around him, the troops still fighting each other he prayed for the goddess's help, and to his surprise, she answered. A beam of sun came through the cloud-cramped sky. He frowned. He never liked asking things of her, but this was important; he looked back down to see his mentor smiling and heard his words, "A king must show more emotion than his subjects, more greed, more sadness for a loss, but most importantly more pride for your pride matches The Holy Mother and this kingdom." His mouth came to a picture-perfect smile as he raised his sword and said, "Unchained Revelation" One of the chains surrounding and locking the blade to the scabbard unraveled and crawled up his arm, and a Damocles produced a beam of light that alerted everyone to look upon Tartaglia.
They looked to see Tartaglia surrounded by the legendary five swordsmen and the grand paladin Arcturus lying at his feet; he smiled and proclaimed, "Victory is here. Surrender or face annihilation." Everyone froze, but then sounds of steel started hitting wet mud. They see him smile wider as his soldiers quickly subdue the opposition and start cheering for the kingdom to win; Tartaglia continues to look anywhere but down, for this is the first day even fate can't protect him.
The people of Impeldom mourned the loss of Arcturus, The Grand Paladin and most importantly, the right hand of the King, their hearts heavy with grief. His memory lived on as a symbol of indomitable spirit and unwavering determination. And in the whispers of the wind and the tales passed down through generations, Arcturus Sentinel Everard's story endured, forever entwined with the history of Impeldom, a testament to the power of the human spirit and the power of belief in The Holy Mother embrace.