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Veiled Saga: Conquest and Domination

(please check out my new book: Gang Lord of the Heavenly God) "If I can't conquer your heart, I will conquer your land." —Miguel "Quit shouting Old man! This genius shall show you how it is done. Done pretty well! Just like that pretty over there." —Argus *** Miguel, an Ex-General falsely accused and is sentenced to death, transmigrated inside the body of a former young master, turned to a slave: Argus. The era is at the age of conquest, a millennia before Miguel's country is colonized. During Miguel's takeover, however, Argus is still alive! Argus regained his control against Miguel's spirit, and they began to swap. Now the two are intertwined. Two souls, two fates, under one path. —DOMINATION! They come to an agreement and declares to conquer the world. A Glorious Veiled Saga that re-writes history! *** Photo Cover is owned and drawn by: Ian Sta. Maria Follow his page on FB: the art of ian sta. maria IG: takbotikbalang This is my first novel on this platform, Nice meeting you!

Suezaro · War
Not enough ratings
265 Chs

Preface

Before we set sail, we watched our love die down in the sunset like cinders.

You were here when I built that boat.

We gathered the planks,

We spread the flags,

We tied those knots which secured the boat.

At that moment...

You are the light of my countless thoughts.

My one and only compass.

Forgive the wind for being mad,

As tides got higher as I write.

Remember what I asked?

Where do the waves, journey to, in the vast sea of oceans?

In the shade, in the stars, the sky will swallow the sun and a boat shall be lost.

But whichever land or water I may wreck into,

Or even in a foreign land where they considered me, a monkey...

I will always remember the wish we had.

Now I stood alone on an island, washed away.

As I stood up weakly, I saw the boat we made...

Stripped of its splendor,

Limp under gravity,

Rotting slowly,

Creaking in the gusting winds.

Walls no longer fine

If used to sail: weak against storms of rain or snow.

Yet it stood skeletal on the hill,

A crumbled beauty of our memory.

I sighed,

recalling its former magnificent allure.

And the sky witnessed its beauty for the last time...

"Peach-pink at peak, pale-pained at pit."—the color you chose for the boat's sail,

Because you liked strawberries.

I'm sorry that it is just a story, I couldn't give the real one—strawberry

Shifting back my gaze, I walked alone in the sand, reminded of a quote:

"Some beautiful paths can't be discovered without getting lost."

I'd like to start my novel in a poetic-fiction of a brief collection of what was about to come.

Welcome aboard, for we are about to set sail!

See to yourselves, in the next chapters...

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