《King Of Solace》~Pagiral~
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It is said that there was once a war. A holy war, one among Gods. A war so great it shook the world and destroyed the hundred kingdoms of men. It is also said, that such a war may not have ended.
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In this land nobles rule over the peasants, not only by right, but by their magical powers passed down their bloodlines from father to son. The powerless have no choice but to serve. But these are troubled times. War, conspiracies and revolutions spread through the land, bringing conflict and suffering along with the promise of an uncertain future. It is on this stage that a lowly mercenary of mixed blood meets the royal heir of an ancient bloodline. This is their story. Cover art by Nicole Cardiff This story is currently abandoned, and will not update.
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So let's cut the pretense: this is some garbage-tier weaboo fiction. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I feel it's important to say that this is some nonsense I write for fun. I don't think it's very good. I'd even go as far as to say that I'm not a good writer at all. I picked up a ball that started rolling when I was a kid and have been intermittently punting it towards the next chapter whenever I feel like it. And you can come on this garbage ride too if you really feel like it. Who knows, maybe there's some gold to be salvaged from this dumpster fire? Synposis: Satou Shibuya is a first year student at Niflheim's Kawagusa General Academy. He's also the self-proclaimed strongest power user, sporting a big enough number on his birth certificate to make a nuclear bomb glow green with envy. There's something to be said about a person whose head is so far up their own ass that you find yourself watching their every move with bated breath, ever curious to see which hole they'll dig themselves into next. This is not that kind of story. This is a story about pride, coming of age, but actually, this is a story about big, stupid superpowered fights. Update Schedule: Whenever.
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Humans are complicated, awfully fragile beings, far too weak to survive amid the other extraterrestrials that lie dormant across the galaxies. Instead of physical altercations, they would rather engage in verbal abuse, breaking an individual's psyche as a hobby. They excel at deception and manipulation, far too interested in bringing their brothers and sisters down and reaching for the top of their self-made hierarchies. Beyond their questionable nature and moral compasses, they long to find meaning in their lives and put names to the feelings that drive each passing moment. They are insatiable—far too greedy for more knowledge and a supposed understanding of their lives. It's pitiable, really, the way they struggle to find themselves while ravaging their kind through petty wars and conflicts built off of misunderstanding. Humans are complicated, awfully fragile beings. They created words and languages to fill the holes that lived inside their souls, desperate for ways to find meaning in their incredibly short lifespans. They'll waste their entire lives trying to find their so-called passions and reasons for living, acting as if they truly rule the way their lives go, supposed "controllers of their own destiny." Yet, they cannot evade the inevitable visit from death, who stands next to them, ticking the seconds down until their demise.
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