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The War That Should Have Ended

Arthur_Pendragone
This world has ended—yet it was never given the chance to mourn. From the ruins of the old civilization, a new and brutal order was born: magic and machines were forged into weapons, cities rose atop shattered foundations, and history was rewritten by the victors. In Galmasca, slavery was legalized in the name of reconstruction—and slaves were turned into soldiers, thrown onto battlefields so the “free” world would not have to spill its own blood. A man—one slave with no future—is forcibly drafted into Galmasca’s military. He does not fight for glory or hope. He fights because if he doesn’t, he’ll die sooner. But on the battlefield, he loses something that should never have been the price of the world’s stability. From that moment on, war stops being about survival—and becomes about revenge. His search for answers drags him deeper into the state’s war machine: operations buried from official records, cities sacrificed in the name of “necessity,” and lies repeated endlessly so the world won’t collapse under the weight of its own past. Each step toward the one responsible for his loss only tears open a greater wound—that the world’s destruction was not an accident, but the result of deliberate choices, inherited across generations. Caught between the urge to retaliate, the need to stay alive, and a system that requires his blood to keep standing, the former slave learns a truth no one ever taught him: this world does not endure because of justice, but because of lies repeated until they become reality. And if he chooses to demand the truth, he may have to become the enemy of the very world he wants to destroy— or save—on his own terms.
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« MATURE CONTENT » His name is Raven Lustre. And the universe fucked him from day one. Imagine this: You get isekai'd to a fantasy world. Finally, right? Your moment. Dragon slayers, demon kings, the whole power fantasy package. Except when everyone else rolled Dragon, Archangel, Titan—bloodlines so pure they could split mountains on day one—you got Incubus. 60% purity. The discount bin special. Not the "seduce and conquer" kind you read about in those masterpiece web novels. The "your pheromones are weaker than cologne" kind. The "you can't charm anyone stronger than you" kind. Which in a world where everyone else is a walking apocalypse? Means you can't charm anyone who matters. So while Gareth—the muscle-brained Titan hero—was bench-pressing boulders, and Astasia—the Holy Archangel with a body that belonged in a cathedral and a face she hid behind a helmet—was literally glowing with divine power, Raven was in the back. The strategist. The brain. The guy they kept around because someone had to think. And they hated him for it. Astasia called him trash. Disgusting. Bastard. Freak. Every curse word a noblewoman could learn, she threw at him like stones. He thought she despised him. Thought she saw him as the weakest link dragging down the hero party. Turns out? 89% favorability. She was a fucking tsundere. And he never knew. Never saw it. Because he was too busy surviving, too busy stealing quick fucks with noblewomen in hallways just to recharge his trash-tier powers, too busy being treated like a prostitute with a brain instead of a hero. Then there was Nyra. The cat-woman. Gareth's slave. The one Raven fucked in secret because that idiot was too busy drawing pictures of Astasia like a lovesick puppy. 96% favorability. The one who actually loved him. The one he promised to free. And he failed. An Incubus got who died at Hand of Succubus during their first Session. The End.
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