Boss, Perfect TranscensionsChief Disciple, Sword of Despair
Chief Disciple, Sword of Despair
- Region
- Mandate Encampment
- Type
- Perfect Transcensions
On the high platform, three disciples catch a red thread on their sword tips and draw the Chief Disciple up with it, leaving him hanging upside down in midair. Pulled by the strings, he swings the blade in his hands, like a puppet trying to break free of its strings; like a wraith, he sprays countless razor-sharp red threads from the black hollows of his face, winding and slicing through the air like tears of blood.
He once loved a woman from an evil sect. The Mandate’s upper ranks would not tolerate their love, and with a single order, they tore the lovers apart. The Chief Disciple had known little beyond the sword formation. What did he know of schemes and intrigue? For the first time in his life, he clumsily defied his sect. In return, he could only watch helplessly as the woman he loved was tortured and left covered in wounds. Even his peerless sword formation could not protect the one he wanted to protect.
Once his heart was broken, there was little left he feared losing. He entrusted everything he had left to the strings.
And what if he looked like a puppet hanging upside down? At least the strings of that puppet would be held in their own hands.
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