3_Sins_Studios

Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason.

My relatives abandoned me and pushed me aside. They feared for their lives and left me and my sister to starve and wander the streets alone!

No, this is worse than hell!

I watched my sister die of starvation. Her lips were dry and her feet bloody. Her nails were broken and her fingers riddled with cuts. She struggled in my hands and after a few seconds of struggle she passed away. She seemed joyful in death so I prayed mine will come just as swift and merciful as hers.

So I stayed in the alleyway, alone with her rotten corpse awaiting my fate for God knows how long. I could see it already. The darkness encroaching from all sides

Everyone said death is scary but I say it's the end! Who needs life after death? What is the need for reincarnation?

Who would want to return to this crazy world?

"It's not yet time for you to go... You have one more task to accomplish as my host" A voice called out to me.

I could barely see or speak but how can I miss such a beautiful face? It was an extremely handsome man who gazed at me with tender eyes.

"Haven't I suffered enough? Can't I just rest?" I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

"Don't you want to avenge the death of your parents? Don't you want to become something greater? I can make that happen!" The beautiful man said with an alluring voice.

"You... Who are you?" I asked with an anxious heart.

My parents always said God is the only one who cares about me! Maybe in my final hours, he has come to save me.

"Call me Death..."

Paragon of Death

Mozan, already thrown off balance by the relentless battle, had no means of evading or defending against this onslaught. The twin attacks struck him with unrelenting force, sending him hurtling backward like a cannonball. The impact was thunderous, and the sheer force of the attack left a trail of devastation in its wake.


Mozan's body soared through the air, the echoes of his painful cry echoing across the battlefield. He tumbled and somersaulted, unable to regain control as Derek's devastating assault sent him on a harrowing journey.


As the settling dust unveiled the scene of battle, Mozan's tenacity became evident. Despite the grievous wounds inflicted upon him, he struggled to rise to his feet, a flicker of indifference in his right eye contrasting with the anguish and pain etched upon the left side of his face. The deep, claw-shaped gash on his heaving chest bore testament to the sheer force of Derek's attack.


Wandering soul