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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

Vermilion, Part One.

Day 135. Year 3000.

"Why are you spacing out?"

At the dinner table, Celia was playing with the green pea on her plate, with a fork.

"Something is different..."

One of the tines impaled the pea, slicing it in two.

"What does that mean?"

Celia sighed and looked at the watch on the wall.

"Ever since master punished Gawain, he has been acting like a stranger."

Faye was asking these questions because she feared that the punishment might have had some adverse effects on the boy. If it was serious, she could take it up with Joan.

"I don't follow. Is he slacking off on his training? Or is it an underlying behavior issue?"

She left the fork on her plate.

"None of those. On the contrary, he has been going all out. As if something is driving him forward. As for his behavior, nowadays, he has been very...quiet."

"And how is that wrong?"

To be continued

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