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myth

the battle logs of the formation master

I finally got this idiotic thing working. I have been trying to get the Thought Logger to work for the last two weeks.  Well, I guess that I should not waste my time anymore and just introduce myself. (I don't know how long I can keep this activated.) My name is Anthony Sevenstars, and I am a formation mage.  I know, I know. It is rare to see formation mages associated with the guard corps. We guards are supposed to be diplomats first and foremost, as quick with praise as with threats. We are supposed to be as cool as a cucumber.  It is hard to imagine me as any of those. I am the guy you meet with when you have a fort to blow up. (How I got my position as a guard is a long story in itself.) I guess I should speak about the mission. I will be honest, I have not been able to learn much about the mission. (Don't blame me. I have been busy keeping our ship flying.) All I know is that we are dealing with the Snowwind Empire. Let's just say that some things have happened in the last year, and they are on the verge of becoming our enemies. All I know is, I am supposed to maintain diplomacy with them (I should manage this.), prevent them from becoming our enemies (this is something that I am dreading.). In the process, I might get to blow up a few of our enemies. (I will do this very well indeed.) Damn it, why is th.. Connec...... Brea.. No.. note 1- my publishing schedule is going to be Monday-wednesday-friday note 2- if you like my work, you should check out my patreon. i don't have any tiers ready yet but any membership will boost my motivation to work on this. this is my patreon link - patreon.com/tengen1410 note 3- I am significantly ahead on royal road webpage. so if you like my work you can go there and check out what is going on.
tengen1410 · 80.3k Views

Star Chronicles:Embers of the Calamity

Let Power Be Your Truth. Your Light. And Your Chains. That was the first law granted to the Nyxvalis clan. For thirty-eight generations it held. Through fire and blood, through empire and ruin, through centuries of war waged in the name of a bloodline that had long since ceased to be merely human. It held — and in holding, built a monolith so absolute that the world stopped asking whether it could fall. Then came the 39th Flame. Seven hundred and thirty-one entered the Chambers of Night. Forty-seven crawled back out. Not an army. Not a dynasty. An ember — dim, diminished, and already encircled by enemies who had spent years sharpening their finest wolves in anticipation of its arrival. A heresy in numbers alone. A silent warning to those still bold enough to hear it: If a monolith can tremble — so too can it fall. As the world prepares to record the embers in its annals, so must its instruments play their parts. Those duty-bound to hold the monolith in place. Those eager to test the might of a millennium of power. And the forty-seven — carrying a smiling ember within. A dark gothic world of political deceit and ancient bloodlines. Empires built on inherited violence. Power forged in law and broken in shadow. And beneath it all — the slow, certain rot of institutions that have never once been held accountable. This is the world of The Star Chronicles. A story about survival without innocence. Legacy worn like chains. And the particular kind of power that doesn't free you — it simply decides how you burn. Embers of the Calamity Volume III
Greyfin · 9.5k Views

Scholar's Mate

“In an age where knowledge cuts deeper than knives, Victoria is about to learn far more than is safe for any soul to bear.” Victoria and Robert were torn from the gentle dullness of their ordinary century and cast into a realm governed by proto-concepts—those ancient, unblinking truths from which life, death, and divinity themselves are carved. Proclaimed “Heroes” by a world too desperate to question its own choices, they were commanded to rise in strength, confront a Demon Lord, and deliver salvation to a land that had never been theirs. Robert donned the mantle with the fervour of a man stepping into destiny. Victoria… hesitated. And in that hesitation, something old—older than scripture, older than light—turned its gaze toward her. She felt its attention like a draft through a locked room. In a moment poised between terror and terrible understanding, she accepted its offer: a contract sealed in silence, a year of her life exchanged for a thing that should never have been permitted to exist. Not in this world. Not in any. She did not yet grasp that, in straying from the Hero’s ordained path, she had not merely shifted her fate— she had begun to unwrite the very scaffolding of her humanity. Now Victoria walks like a phantom through a world that has marched on without her— one year behind the celebrated Hero, yet burdened with an insight so sharp it threatens to cut her free from mortality itself. She can now trespass upon knowledge forbidden to scholars, sorcerers, or even those who stand at the pinnacle of human mastery. She commits the kind of acts whispered only of beings who have stepped beyond the human threshold… and never returned. And in a world built on primordial, immovable truths, one truth endures: Knowledge is power. But power, when mishandled, becomes a curse that devours its bearer— quietly, inevitably, like rot beneath embroidered silk.
NovaLumin · 141.9k Views

I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director (Creating Fate Movie In Nasuverse)

“Director Matou, the magical effects in your fantasy film looked incredibly realistic! How did you pull them off?” “They were real magic,” Shinji replied without missing a beat. “Director Matou, your historical drama was praised for its uncanny accuracy. How did you manage that?” “I had direct consultation from the people who lived in that era.” “Director, in your tokusatsu films, why does the Ultraman-like hero always use Bajiquan in combat?” “Well, that’s because the actor playing him is none other than the founder of Bajiquan himself.” “Director Matou, why do the female leads in all your films look so… similar? Especially all those Arturia actresses with the same name and face?” “That, my friend, is a long story. And it all begins with a certain mushroom-headed man—” “......” . . . . . Shinji Matou. A prodigious talent in the world of film, a renegade magi who defied the orthodoxy of the Clock Tower, and an eccentric summoner who had long since stopped pretending to get along with his own Servant. A director who blended modern cinema with ancient magecraft. A magus who saw the silver screen as a new kind of reality marble. He stood boldly before a press conference filled with journalists, film critics, and confused magi alike. “I am the greatest Master among Directors—and the greatest Director among Masters!” He declared it like a line straight out of his own movie, with all the pomp and confidence of a man who had rewritten the rules of both cinema and sorcery. The hall fell into an awkward silence. And then, in perfect unison, a thunderous cry echoed from behind the curtains— “SHUT UP AND GET LOST!” ×N A chorus of exasperated Servants, all fed up with his antics. Shinji didn’t flinch. He simply smirked, adjusted his director’s beret, and turned back to the flashing cameras. "Good! Now let’s roll the cameras! Scene one—reality itself."
Delizard · 1.3m Views

Before The First Word

Disclaimer: [Slow Burn], [Prose Heavy] Before God spoke the first word, something else was already there. Before the angels were made, before the Heavenly Host drew their first breath, before the seventy-two were bound and the wars were fought and the prayers were written -- there was something sleeping in the bedrock of the world. Something that had culled the primordial chaos down to silence, that had cleared the void so completely that when God arrived, He built His entire creation in the space it left behind. It did not know this. It was asleep. It has been asleep for longer than history has words for. Until an archaeologist with a family secret she'd rather not think about falls through the wrong floor in the Negev desert -- and something that predates the concept of morning opens its eyes. His name is Vothanael, Elkaius in some translations, and in some, He is the Primordial Extinction. He has no language, no framework, no model of what he is. He does not know that the stone wall beside his resting place holds layers of pre-language scripture, the deepest of which contains a message from God Himself -- a confession, a grief, and an instruction nobody has carried out yet. He does not know that the Heavenly Host and the Seventy-Two Demons have been at war for centuries in the world above him. He does not know that both sides are about to find out he exists. What he knows is this: there is a woman with stone dust on her hands who gave him the word for sun on the first morning, and a house that is becoming something he does not have a word for yet, and a wall full of things written for him before writing existed. He is learning the words. One by one. Carefully. *The war above him is about to become very inconsequential in the grand scheme of things*
KaI_AlistaiR · 20.8k Views