Daniel Garcia
Stories
5
Chapters
1,778
Words
262.2 K
Comments
0
Reading
21 h, 50 m
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Roan wasn’t much of a fan for driving a carriage, especially when having to navigate through the populated city, so the carriage was left in the care of a company of drivers for the time being. “Nngh…agh,” Emilio sighed out while stretching his limbs. It was always a great feeling to be back on his feet after having to sit in a carriage for hours on end, especially now being surrounded by a swathe of alluring aromas of Indasia’s enticing restaurants. “We’re going to hunker down for a…
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Though it was a short-lived conflict, the sides of the forest road of soil and flowers had been encased in frost and sections of the grass were charred black from the archaic machine’s destructive nature. It was a daunting thought to think it was simply one of many such entities that were commonplace. “Let us just count ourselves lucky we encountered merely a grunt; Magi Golem’s can be quite more…complex and troublesome,” Aife said in a passing remark. The entire prospect of such complex,…
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“A Magi-Golem…I didn’t expect to find one here,” Aife said. “A golem?” He repeated. From what he experienced thus far, a ‘golem’ tended to be a creature made out of natural elements, gifted a base level of sentience in order to aid its creator. However, what he saw before him more-so resembled an archaic machine; its body made of finely carved woon and tuned steel, possessing exposed gears that turned. “Remnants of the ‘Golem King’s’ kingdom. Some still roam the outskirts of…
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“Need a ride?” Roan asked. “…Yes, please,” Aife finally admitted. Though he wasn’t exactly against the idea, Emilio was a bit perplexed by Roan, a man of experience in the ways of the world himself, being so quick to take a stranger along. He walked up to the window to the coach’s seat, whispering to the red-haired man’s ear, “Are you sure about this? I mean, is it even necessary?” “You may not realize it, but Vasmoria can be quite troublesome. Milligarde has the lowest…
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As he looked at his own body, he only found scars on his side and thigh from before he obtained the undying blood. Though there were cuts left past his black vest and gray tunic beneath, which he wasn’t worried about. I’m immortal now, then?…I should be happy about this, but…I’m not. I’d give it up for him to come back. Besides…I hardly think I’m immortal; Vandread mentioned it before that enough injuries would get to him, he thought. A sigh left his lips as he fiddled with the fabric…
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From a humanoid form to complete monstrosity, the Unending Nightmare turned into a ball of flesh with limbs and blood orbiting its spherical form as multiple grinning, frowning, and laughing mouths appeared on its floating, ball shape. Eyes sprouted along its shape, blinking and ever-watching as it boasted a daunting size, emitting a gravitational force that crushed anything directly near it. “Don’t get close to it!” Roan shouted to the rest of the group. Sumera held her staff forward, “That’s…
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The moment the final remnants of life left Vandread, the boy’s eyes shot open as he exhaled sharply, sitting up in a jarring fashion as he clutched his chest. What happened? I’m alive–what is this feeling? My body…I feel…perfect? There’s no pain–nothing, he questioned. Patting his own body, he realized even the injuries he endured in the battle were gone, witnessing a small, black thread finish closing one such laceration as a harrowing realization came to his mind. Sumera called out to…
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Emilio found his consciousness flickering, as if encumbered by a weight too much for his mind to handle; the pain was too much to focus on as he held his own throat, gasping for air as his lungs seemed to be shutting down. Black spots appeared as blots on his pale complexion with the hellish plague destroying his body at a cellular level. …Is it happening like this? My second life, ending before I even got to see the world. There’s still so much I want to do…Why is life unfair like this? Even in my…
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“Sumera! Melisande!” He yelled out. Though he tried to break through to help them, he was shoved back by one of the Unending Nightmare’s avatars. Shit! He thought. It was the worst-case scenario; he could sense it–these nightmarish knights, looking as if they crawled from the depths of a void, were powerful, oozing off an abyssal aura from their form. Still, he was prepared to fight, raising his sword again as the deathly sentinels closed in. “I’m not done yet…I can still–” Before…
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I did it, Father, he thought, holding his slashed side. Still, he knew it wasn’t over–not by a long shot as the Unending Nightmare borrowed another form, expanding its gunky essence in order to rid itself of the flames before redefining the shape and size of its limbs into another figure. It was an appearance that made him shiver as memories he’d rather not remember came to be recalled; unkempt, ginger hair and a verdant cloak like a ranger, a youthful glow that would be mistaken as benevolent,…
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