Welcome to hell-back in the pride ring

Welcome to hell-back in the pride ring

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jun 4, 2025
Hooray! I survived yet another extermination. The countdown reseted to 365 days once again... Many unfortunate souls got killed by those so-called angels, but I prefer to call them the false saviors because of how ruthless they "exterminate" us sinners. A bloodbath, which even makes the massacres on the living world envyful. they don't pity us in the slightest. The only thing they feel is pure bloodlust. We're really fucked up down here, eh? But what should you expect different in hell itself? How long has it been since I arrived here? I don't quite remember... It might have been a couple or even more years? I lost count on how many times those false saviors bastards came down here, since I arrived in hell. The streets are full of corpses, and this place reeks of death...
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overlord
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Oh boy, here we go again. Blood. It's like that one toxic ex you can't stop thinking about-you know it's bad for you, but it's got this pull. It ruins everything. Kingdoms? Toast. Hunters? Totally off the deep end. People? Let's just say the phrase "hot mess" doesn't even scratch the surface. And me? I'm Narsus. Disgraced knight, professional brooder, part-time beast slayer, full-time existential crisis. Now I'm stuck in Yharnam. Imagine a city built by gothic architecture enthusiasts who really overestimated their candle budget. The place is drowning in fog, madness, claws, and the occasional giant axe-wielding beast who really doesn't appreciate personal space. Fun, right? And let's talk about me making promises-because that's going great. This little girl hands me a music box, looks me dead in the eyes, and asks me to find her parents. And me? Being the genius that I am, I said, "Sure, kid, I'll give it a shot." Idiot. Why not promise to knit a scarf for every werewolf in Yharnam while I'm at it? Oh, and Sapphire? She's got secrets. Big ones. You know, the kind that could either save the day or end it in a flaming dumpster fire. No pressure there. Meanwhile, I've got my own problems, like keeping the blood from whispering sweet, murderous nothings into my brain. Here's the thing: Yharnam doesn't do heroes. It chews them up and spits them out like last week's leftovers. And me? I'm not even in the running for "mediocre antihero of the month." But promises? Yeah, they're messy, dangerous, and pretty much guaranteed to get you killed. Still better than breaking them.

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