you not my real mother

Суперсовременная графика требующая 6ГБ оперативной памяти и четыре GeForce Titan под капотом вашего компа.

He could've become a strongest wizard ever. The talent he got was feared even by the stars. He wanted to become a summoner who call out and control terrible monsters from the other world. Only problem was that not even single being answered his call because of his filthy temper.

When you're dealing with the necromancer, watch where you step.

Check whether there was a war in that place before.

The guards of the city gate patted her down to check whether she was armed.

But they didn't check her well enough.



That's how Arondil Massacre was happened.

"I know I've been biting the dust for every single tries, but this is the real one.

My keen sense of treasure hunter is telling me so."

He became a legend.

A knight rose alone against the Army of the West, and fought for three days in the narrow gorge to protect his companions retreating.



When he ran out of all strength and died, he was still standing. He never kneeled.

"You know, the words of the giants are really hard to pronounce.

I tried to say, 'Do you have a mother?'

but I actually ended up saying, 'I declare war to you as a representative of Lebensia.'"

"I am no god.

Even I am only a creation just like you, and not your master but brother.

I dare wish to set your record straight, by preaching the teachings of All Father, who is not bound to paradox and destiny."



"I'm afraid we should get going now."

"My fellow Knights of Revesin.

I know you're busy with war stuff now

but let me borrow your sword shadow please."

Her magic will crush you, rip you, tear you apart.

If you're lucky, you might be left as fragmented image between spaces, or might appear in the different story and genre.

The Shadow Torch was lit by the dark fire, and casted shadow instead of light.

In the pitch darkness made by the ancient relic, only its wielder gained a bright and clear vision.



I guess she thought that it would be a great tool for assassination.

Long time ago, there lived a wise and kind king named Hravir.

The blacksmith showed his respect by offering him crown made of the language of world.

Thrifty king used to concern whether he's wearing a crown too fancy and extravagant.

The people called him Hravir the Crownless.