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 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
195 Chs

As It Prods

As soon as they crossed the town's threshold, the three magi shivered.

There was evil in this place. It was breathing... quivering at the approach of newcomers. Yet, it didn't do anything beyond those excitable stirs.

"Well then, 'twas good makin' your acquaintance. Do pass by Anton's popina later. I'm sure you'll find the help yer looking for."

The old man obliviously continued his march, dragging his cart on Leagan's cobbled streets.

The reverberating creak of wooden wheels made them focus on the local buildings, which they found particularly unremarkable, if not a little old-fashioned. Stone houses, plain tile roofs, and neatly planned roadways—it lacked the bustling, chaotic charm of Mursa.