Path of Glory

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Path of Glory

By: Kirill Klevanski Updated just nowFantasy

Language: English
18

Chapters: 99 views: 7

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When Boreas died on that surgical table back in his home world, his mortal body remained on Earth, but his soul, striving for something more, was reborn. In another world, he became Hadjar Darkhan, the son of a King and Queen. He had only his neural network and the burning aches and desires from his previous life to guide him. It took him years to become the Mad General, a man who possesses a sober mind, a steadfast heart, strong hands and sharp eyes. He followed the path of a warrior, defeated countless enemies, and he saw Death more often than anyone else in this Nameless World. Now, there is nothing that could make Hadjar Darkhan tremble with horror. He survived the war for the throne of his homeland, battles against monsters out of myth, even the destruction of an ancient civilization’s last remaining fragments in the Sea of Sand. Answering the call of his dragon heart, he is ready to do everything to achieve his great, almost foolishly noble goal. He is challenging the whole world, and no Emperor, god, or demon will stop him.

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99 chapters
1
Prologue of the second half of the seriesThe huge throne room was magnificent, but empty. This combination inspired both a sense of awe at its splendor, and a longing for the former glory of a place where lavish feasts and balls had once been held, making the Lascanian Palace famous across all seven Empires.The clinking of the cavalry corps captain’s spurs echoed off the high walls. The marble slabs of the floor polished to a mirror sheen, the majestic columns, the artful fountains, and the small gardens in this beautiful hall only added to the sense of majesty from a bygone era. In his black, soot-covered armor, he looked like a dirty smudge defiling the snow-white hall, which was flooded with daylight that was seeping through the tall stained-glass windows.The captain strode up to the snow-white throne made from magic marble. To the left and right of it stood various fountains, through which water hadn’t flowed for a long time. The garden beds, enclosed by a white metal fence, on
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2
“Yes, Regent Mother.” The cavalryman bowed again, and, still in a half-crouched pose, backed away. Then, turning abruptly, he sped up in order to leave the hall as quickly as possible. As a man and a warrior who’d fought in many wars, he didn’t want to see her breastfeeding that three-year-old boy, a future warrior. Sekiya understood that, no matter how their war with Darnassus ended, Lascan had no future… Well, at least he got to fight for a once-great Empire.In a shack that stank of old, wet wood, dog fur, and something musky, a boy lay curled up on a small sofa that served as his bed, covered only by a hole-riddled blanket made from an old sheepskin coat and some rags.The boy was trembling, and he was muttering in his sleep and wincing. There was a deep furrow between his brows. It was obvious that the child was afraid. He was so scared that he wanted to wake up more than anything else, even though it was midnight outside, and the sky was full of heavy winter clouds. A blizzard h
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3
The demon, who had assumed a human form, was wearing a wide-brimmed hat that hid half of his face. Only a single, glimmering scarlet eye could be seen. In his hands, he held a bleeding, crimson sphere, and black blobs — people’s nightmares — swarmed around his legs. They currently looked angry, and even somewhat upset.“Hello, my old enemy,” The demon bowed slightly. “You chose an unpleasant way to call me here.”Despite the freezing cold and the blizzard, the wizard was wearing simple clothes and a straw hat. His patched cape fluttered behind him, and a small canvas bag was attached to his belt.“This night is awful even without your nightmares, Helmer.” There wasn’t even a hint of fear in the wizard’s voice, despite the fact that he was speaking to the Lord of Nightmares, an ancient demon who served as the Emissary of the Prince of Demons himself. “I took it upon myself to help that poor child.”“No one has the right to interfere with my nightmares, Ash,” the demon said, slightly pe
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4
“Is there any honor in that? Is there any honor in waiting for your enemy to die?”“Honor?” Helmer almost spat. “That’s a fairytale for young fools. When you die, I’ll win. There’s no point in me fighting you now, when I know I’d lose.”“If I want to, I’ll live for a hundred more eons.”“Even if you live for thousands more,” Helmer shrugged. “I’ll still live longer. I’ll live forever... And we both know your days are numbered, Sage. Your death is much closer than a hundred eons. It’s much closer than a measly thousand years.”The wizard said nothing…“I’ll ask again: why did you call me here? Why did you violate my rights and kill my nightmare?”Ash suddenly sighed and leaned heavily on his staff.“Who knows? Maybe I just wanted to talk to my old enemy... or old friend… After all, your protégé will die tonight. Even if I don’t live to see another Demon Parade, I’ll at least get to watch you end up with nothing again.”Helmer started laughing at first, then abruptly came to his senses
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5
“Who are you?” She crossed her sabers and sent a slash of purple light toward the person who was standing in her way.A shrill cry echoed throughout their surroundings, and the cross-shaped cut turned into a soaring bird of prey with a massive wingspan. When its claws touched the ground, they cut through it as easily as a tailor’s scissors cut through cloth. The wide wings produced echoes so powerful that they reached the walls of Sukhashim and easily left long scratches on the magical rock.Along with her Technique, Arkemeya released her True Kingdom of the Twin Sabers and, with a reverse slash of both sabers, sent out two more attacks, which turned into huge beaks. All this power, which even made the orcs who were a few miles away turn around, splattered against a lone white sword. The short blade first sliced through the bird in one motion, and then the waves of white fire that spread out from it shattered the beaks as well.“What…” Arkemeya collapsed to her knees. All her power, f
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6
The woman lunged forward. Her attack was no less skilled than that of an experienced swordsman. Although, it would probably be harder to not become proficient when one practiced swordsmanship for countless ages.He dodged with the ease of someone avoiding a petulant child’s tantrum. It was worth noting that the woman had mostly practiced her swordsmanship against opponents who could hardly move a finger at the time. In midair, she turned around and kicked off a lamppost. Leaping over a bench, she landed right next to him. Her black blade came down toward Boreas’ head.He easily slid back and, turning on his heel, hooked his foe’s leg, and then hit her chest. The woman flew back a dozen feet and crashed into an empty trash can. Leaving a dent in it, she stood up and assumed an offensive stance.“I thought you used a scythe,” he said, calmly taking another cigarette out of the pack. Deftly catching it with his lips, Boreas lit it with his will and took a drag.“You don’t know much, then
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7
“White Fang’s memories tell me that the warriors of modern times forgot about true power in their pursuit of cheap power. You can’t get it from the World River, or create it from energy. The real power comes only from yourself. You don’t take it from the world, you change the world with it. This is what the Black General taught me, and what I must now pass on to you.”Erhard’s words sounded familiar to Hadjar. He’d heard them many times before, and he had gradually come to understand what their deeper truth was.Complete analysis, Hadjar ordered mentally.[Processing request...Request processed...The host is in critical condition.0 hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds, 6 milliseconds left until all systems completely stop and are fully disabled...Error 07@^#456!Initiating recalculation…Recalculation completed...16 hours, 14 minutes, 45... 44... 43 seconds left before cessation of all functions.]The memories came flooding back to Hadjar. He remembered how, under the light of the full mo
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8
“Lose your mind?” Erhard asked. “Did a mind demon try to rip your brain out of your head? Is that what you’re talking about?”Hadjar just shook his head. Erhard had lived several eons ago, so some modern expressions naturally sounded completely different to the Last King.“It doesn’t matter,” Hadjar said. “What are we doing in your memory, Erhard?”The white-haired swordsman frowned again:“I used to decapitate people for being so casual with me... but considering you’re my Master’s junior disciple, I think it’s fine for us to talk like buddies. Well, Hadjar, we’re here so that I can pay you back and-““Explain, please,” Hadjar cut him off. “I still don’t understand why you decided to kill me, and why you think you now owe me something.”“I owe you because I took something from you.” Erhard looked calm, but Hadjar saw a hint of impatience in the depths of his gray eyes. “As White Fang, I lived like I was floating through a dream. I was driven only by some very deep principles and emot
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9
Defeat that enemy. Win the battle. That is a warrior’s way. Everything else, everything that’s not your battles and your victories, is just dust clinging to you. Reject it.”Hadjar sighed. He’d heard all of this before from those who had already died, or had been killed.“You’re wrong, Erhard.” Hadjar sat down on the sand of the training ground in a lotus position. “I’m not Einen. I don’t like to philosophize.”Erhard looked at Hadjar, who was deep in meditation. He wondered if the young warrior who hated their Master so fiercely even realized how similar they were. It seemed to Erhard like he wasn’t speaking to a living person, but to the Shadow of his Master…***In a world where there wasn’t a single thing that would obstruct one’s view, a man sat observing an ocean of swaying grass, while leaning on a rock and watching a bird cleaning its feathers while sitting on the highest branch of a single low tree. He was middle-aged, with gray hair and wrinkles on his still young, but alrea
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10
The man shivered. For the first time in years, he felt cold.“I’m waiting for you,” he whispered, then he smiled broadly and turned back to the crowd. “It’s time for a magic show! But to avoid disappointing you, I’ll warn you that I’m not a magician, but a great mage! That means I don’t take coin as payment, but kisses! If there are princesses among you, I can even accept payment twice!”The crowd laughed, and the performance began.Arkemeya fell to the ground. Her right arm was burned up to the elbow, and blood covered her face. The clothes that she’d bought in Kurkhadan had turned into rags. There were terrible black spots on her bare stomach and thighs. Her sabers, which were Imperial level artifacts of excellent quality, had cracks and notches on them. But no matter how much she fought against the wall of blue flames that the mysterious swordswoman had conjured, she couldn’t break through. The ground around them had long since been reduced to ashes. It was full of holes, broken, m
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