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The Knight Of Euphemia

"She is the progeny of the devil." The final blow was laid down. A sword through his heart. Followers of hell had slayed the Knight. "A prophet, I am not. But I shall curse this land, which dared to deprive us of our bond. He shall honor my promise, and he shall bring the rot to your land. Not for my selfish will, but for the eradication of true evil." With the corpse of her beloved in her embrace, Euphemia was sealed forever. As the dust settled, a new dawn emerged. 'The Immortal Land Of Euphemia. A place that refuses to wither down even after several millenniums of prosperity. Kingdoms have come and gone, but none of them carried the strength and Valor of the holy land, protected by the will of the warrior goddess Astarte.'

Honestdegenerate · Fantasy

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73 Chs

The Journey, Part Two

"You both are bullies."

Joan was sulking by herself below a tree.

"We have to do this to avoid unnecessary problems on our journey. You should understand, master."

Twelve hours into their journey, they had decided to set up camp in the middle of a jungle.

"But Celia..."

She couldn't accept it.

"When we get back home, we promise that you will get a chance to display your skills. Gawain will be more than happy to accept your offerings there. But we can't take any risks right now."

Gawain, who was busy feeding hay to his horse, immediately turned around.

"When did I-"

Celia glared at him, while Joan was visibly upset. Norman, who was standing not too far from his current spot, appeared to be...smiling?

'Play along!'

He had no other choice.

"I meant to say, when did I say that I was against this? As Celia said, I will be more than happy to eat whatever you cook when we get to your territory."

Joan raised her head.

"Really?"

"R-really."

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