Naphulae

"The veil of sanity is a lie we tell ourselves when we gaze at the night sky, hoping, in a stifled corner of our mind, that the stars aren't gazing back."

—

A nameless, insignificant, yet ambitious young man once attempted to rescue his family from poverty. But as he found hope, he also stumbled upon despair. After losing everything to the darkness of death, including himself, he woke up in another world, stuck in the body of an eleven-year-old boy with a peculiar appearance.

He soon discovered that he was a Celestial Offering—a holy sacrifice, carefully groomed by the Temple of Stars to be given to the Gods Beyond. 

His fate had already been sealed, for his blood would spill under the seven-pointed star and consecrate the birth of a new era for his nation.

Armed with nothing but his wit and the trail of good fortune, he would attempt to challenge this destiny, braving the countless hurdles that lay in waiting and the unfathomable horrors they harbored. 

In a realm of magecraft, occult rituals, madness, and prowling Eidolons, he could only count on himself to survive, as the threat of insanity loomed over everyone equally, and nothing could slow its ineluctable embrace.

—

Discord: Naphulae#1813

The Forsaken Sovereign

Meilyr woke up amidst smoke and crackling fire.

A powerful throb resonated as Warden Sidonia's Theurgic Field crumbled, bringing down Ushpia's barrier and alarming his senses.

He jolted upwards, realizing that the landscape had completely changed during his brief tumble into unconsciousness.

No, wait—from his point of view, his stupor had only lasted as long as his conversation with Irqu-neya. His current reading of the Vile Ichor proved that much more time had passed in reality.

It seems like time flows differently in the depths of my psyche.

He looked around, noticing a sprawled row of injured—Gal-Enshu, Gessius, Vivi, Emil, and Pellio were all huddled together, their wounds tended to by Harpax.

"Hey, can you take care of me, too?" Icilia feigned agonizing moans on the fuming ground, pointing at her neck. "See? I've got a nasty bruise here. A moist kiss should suffice to alleviate the pain~"

Sword of Hope