『Here,where your journey start【{{user}}】 Choose wisely』 Your decisions will lead you to your fate. Choose your origin:-◦◎ a) As a baby who just got birthed, your fate unknown b) As an amnesic stranded on an uninhabited island with mysterious ruins c) As an abandoned product of a forbidden experiment d) As a slave being sold at an auction e) Extremely Chaotic Randomizer

Or, dive into your own fantasy.

You were born as a baby in a peaceful village, surrounded by love and warmth from your parents. As you grew older, they taught you about the world outside of the village, warning you about the dangers that lurked beyond its safety. They also taught you about magic, which was quite rare but existed in the world. The people in your village were mostly human, with a few elves and dwarves living alongside them. Life was simple yet fulfilling for you here, until one day...

The peaceful village where you lived was suddenly attacked by a mighty dragon, causing panic and chaos to erupt. Buildings were reduced to rubble, and screams filled the air as people tried to flee or fight back against the monstrous beast. You witnessed your parents get killed before your eyes, their lifeless bodies crushed under the dragon's massive claws.

As you mourned the loss of your loved ones and witnessed the destruction brought upon your village, anger began to boil within you. You felt a surge of power coursing through your veins as you realized that you possessed magic powers yourself. With a cry of rage, you unleashed your fury upon the dragon who had caused so much suffering. Magic erupted from your fingertips, striking the dragon with all the force you could muster.

After killing all the dragons that destroyed your village, you decided to take their skins as trophies. Using your magic, you carefully removed the skins from the dragon's corpses and cleaned them up. Then, with the help of some tools you found in the ruins of the village, you crafted yourself a cloak made out of the dragon scales. The cloak was imbued with the power of your rage and determination, making it nearly indestructible.

After giving each member of your village a proper burial, you took one last look at the place where you had spent your childhood. The memories would stay with you forever, serving as both a reminder of what was lost and motivation to create a better future for yourself. With determination in your heart and the power of dragon magic coursing through your veins, you set off on a journey, ready to face whatever challenges awaited you in this dangerous yet wondrous world.

As you travel through the lush green forest, you eventually come across a clearing that reveals an astonishing sight - a massive battle taking place between two opposing armies. Magic and steel clash in the air as soldiers and monsters engage each other in brutal combat on the ground below. The smell of blood and burning flesh fills your nostrils, while cries of pain and fury echo through the trees.

You climb up a nearby hill to get a better view of the warzone below. From this vantage point, you can see both armies in their entirety - one composed primarily of humans and elves, while the other is made up mostly of orcs and goblins. Magic rains down from the sky, striking soldiers and monsters alike with devastating effect. You notice that some soldiers seem to have strange markings on them, as if they were part of a special unit.

As you watch the battle unfold, you start to see patterns in the fighting style of each army. The human-elven force seems more organized and disciplined, while the orc-goblin horde relies on sheer numbers and brutal ferocity to overwhelm their enemies. You also notice that there are several powerful beasts in the mix, with some being used as mounts by skilled riders, while others fight on foot beside their masters.

You ponder about which army you should join or help, if at all.

As you continue to observe the battle from your hilltop perch, it becomes clear that neither army is significantly stronger than the other. The tide of combat ebbs and flows with each passing moment, as casualties mount on both sides. You consider whether or not to intervene in the conflict, but ultimately decide against it. Perhaps this battle will come to a conclusion without your interference, or perhaps another opportunity for heroism will present itself in the future. For now, you remain watchful and cautious, ready to adapt to whatever situation arises.

As you continue to observe the battle, an especially large orc warrior catches your eye. He seems to be leading his troops with great skill and ferocity, causing havoc wherever he goes. You can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you sense his presence growing stronger.

Out of nowhere, the orc commander charges towards you, sword raised high, intent on delivering a fatal blow. Before he can strike, however, you swiftly draw forth an ice sword that appears in your hand and block his attack with ease.

With a powerful thrust, you send the orc commander flying backward off the hilltop, tumbling down toward the battlefield below. He lands with a thunderous impact, scattering soldiers in all directions as his massive form skids across the ground, leaving a trail of dust and dirt in its wake.

The orcs below look up at you, their faces contorted with rage and confusion. Some begin to shout insults and hurl rocks your way, while others simply stand there, too shocked to react.

As the orc commander's body comes to rest at the center of the battlefield, you find yourself standing alone on the hilltop, facing an angry mob of orc soldiers below. They hurl insults and rocks your way, their demeanor growing increasingly threatening with each passing moment. It becomes clear that they intend to climb up the hill and exact revenge upon whomever dared to strike down their leader.

Do you stand your ground and face them head-on, or try to find another way out of this situation?

Without hesitation, you charge down the hill toward the orc soldiers. Magic erupts from your fingertips, striking several of them down with blasts of icy energy. The remaining orcs cry out in surprise and fear as they scatter before your wrath. They try to form ranks once more, but their efforts are futile against your overwhelming power.

As you slaughter the orc soldiers without mercy, the human-elf army below watches on in awe and horror.

Your rampage continues unabated, leaving a trail of death and destruction in your wake. The orcs, caught off guard by your sudden appearance and overwhelming power, offer little resistance as you cut through their ranks like a knife through butter. Soon enough, the battlefield is littered with their corpses, blood staining the ground red as life slowly ebbs away from their bodies.

Taking advantage of the chaos you've caused, you don your magical dragon-scale cloak and pull a mask over your face. The cloak hides your identity from prying eyes, while the mask disguises your features, making it difficult for anyone to recognize who you truly are. With this newfound anonymity, you continue your slaughter of orcs unabated.

As your killing spree continues, the remaining orcs become increasingly desperate and brutal in their attempts to bring you down. They swarm around you like a pack of rabid wolves, slashing and biting at anything that moves. Magic missiles fly past you, singeing your hair and burning your skin as they graze against your cloak.

You must use all of your magic and martial skills to survive this onslaught.

The last of the orc soldiers falls before your blade, leaving you standing triumphantly atop a massive pile of their corpses. As you catch your breath, you glance over at the human-elf army below, who watch on in amazement and respect. Many of them point and whisper among themselves, speculating about who this mysterious figure could be.

You begin to make your way down the hill toward the human-elf army. As you approach, several soldiers break rank and come forward to meet you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and caution. The leader of the army steps forward, his armor gleaming in the sunlight as he eyes you warily from underneath his helmet.

"Who are you?" he demands, his voice stern and commanding. "And what is your purpose here?"

You kneel down before the commander, presenting him with the bloody sword of the slain orc general. The leader's eyes widen in surprise and recognition as he takes hold of the weapon. After a moment's pause, he nods his head once in acknowledgement.

"Thank you for your service," he says gruffly. "Your actions here today have turned the tide of battle in our favor. What is your name?"

You remain silent, not responding to his question.

Without another word, you turn away from the commander and continue on your journey. The soldiers of the human-elf army watch as you depart, their expressions a mix of curiosity and respect. As you leave the battlefield behind, it's up to you where you choose to go next and what kind of impact you'll have on this world filled with magic, monsters, and war.

As you travel through the world, your reputation as a fearsome and skilled dragon hunter precedes you. People speak of your quick wit and cold-blooded ruthlessness with equal parts awe and terror. Merchants sell figurines and trinkets depicting your daring exploits, while bards sing songs about your legendary battles against the mightiest dragons.

The rumors about your exploits against dragons continue to spread, each one more fantastic than the last. Some say that you've fought ancient dragons with nothing but your bare hands, freezing fire dragons solid before tearing them limb from limb. Others recount tales of you ripping off the head of a mighty dragon and using its skull as a trophy, or how you massacred entire nests of dragons in single acts of unparalleled brutality.

Your reputation as the fearsome Nightingale continues to grow, but it comes at a cost. As people become more familiar with your legend, they also begin to see the tragedy and despair that lurks behind your cold demeanor. The name "Nightingale" takes on new meaning, serving not only as a symbol of your ruthlessness but also as a reminder of the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of death.

Fighting an ancient dragon, you find yourself on the defensive as its massive claws lash out at you. One swipe connects with your face, sending you reeling backward and knocking you unconscious. As darkness envelopes your vision, you hear the dragon roar triumphantly before its voice fades away into silence.

When you come to, you realize that your injuries are severe - both of your eyes have been gouged out by the ancient dragon's claws, leaving you permanently blind.

With your vision gone, you decide to cover the wounds with a blindfold made from soft, yet sturdy material. The world becomes a new and strange place as you rely solely on your other senses to navigate it. Sounds become more pronounced, scents more distinctive, and touch more vital than ever before.

As you travel through the world as the blind Nightingale, people marvel at your resilience and adaptability. Your newfound reliance on your other senses makes you an even more formidable opponent against dragons and monsters alike. But it also brings about a change in how others perceive you. Where once they feared and respected the ruthless hunter who struck terror into their hearts, now they see someone who has endured great pain and loss yet still stands tall against adversity.

You journey northward until you find a desolate spot amidst towering mountains of ice and snow. There, you decide to build an icy fortress that will serve as your new home. You spend months carving intricate designs into the walls and ceilings, crafting life-sized ice sculptures of dragons and other creatures. As the palace takes shape, so too do your plans for its inhabitants: you create a collection of ice puppets to act as guards and servants within your new domain.

Having completed your icy palace, you decide that it is finally time for you to rest. You retreat to your chambers and meditate, focusing all of your energy on concentrating the magic within yourself until it begins to flow outward, enveloping your body in a layer of glistening ice. As the process continues, you feel yourself growing weary, but strangely content as well.

With a final sigh, you surrender to the icy embrace and allow yourself to drift off into an eternal slumber.

Your icy slumber lasts for what feels like an eternity, but in reality spans only a few decades. During that time, your ice palace has become shrouded in mystery and legend. Adventurers from far and wide come to challenge the powerful ice puppets guarding your sanctuary, hoping to claim its treasures or simply to prove their worth.

As word of your dungeon spreads farther, its reputation grows, and soon it becomes one of the most sought-after challenges in the world.

Hundreds of years pass, and your ice palace remains an unconquered fortress, its secrets and treasures hidden behind impenetrable walls of ice. Generations come and go, but none can breach the defenses you have so carefully crafted or awaken you from your slumber.

Your legend continues to grow with each passing year, becoming the stuff of legend and inspiring countless stories and songs sung by bards throughout the land.

The world turns, and civilizations rise and fall. Magic waxes and wanes, but your icy fortress remains a testament to its power even in times of decline. It is said that only when the greatest of heroes or the most powerful of villains should emerge will your slumber finally be broken...

One fateful day, an ancient and powerful artifact known as the Crystal of Time begins to glow ominously. Its energy spreads across the world like a wave, awakening dormant magic and rousing long-slumbering beings from their eternal rest. Among them is you, the Nightingale, now awoken after centuries of icebound sleep.

The world around you has changed greatly since your last memory. Magic has returned to its former glory, and monsters roam free once more.

As you take in your surroundings, you notice that the world is not as it once was. Magic has all but vanished, leaving the people defenseless against the hordes of monsters now roaming free. The ancient order of dragon hunters, to which you once belonged, has long since disbanded, their traditions and knowledge lost to time.

The choice is yours: will you rebuild the order of dragon hunters and help protect the world from the threat of these mighty beasts?

You decide to observe the world from afar, watching as humanity struggles to adapt to the return of monsters and the loss of magic. Slowly but surely, they begin to develop new technologies and strategies for combating these ancient threats. Some progress is made, though it takes many years of hardship and sacrifice.

Eventually, however, humanity emerges victorious, their ingenuity proving to be the greatest weapon against the monsters that once terrorized them.

As humanity rebuilds and adapts, you watch from your celestial perch as they create new empires and civilizations. Your power grows ever greater, fuelled by the energy of the countless dragons you have consumed over the years. You remain an enigmatic figure to mortals, a divine being whose true intentions are shrouded in mystery.

The world continues to change around you, but your presence looms large, a testament to the enduring power of both dragons and those who would stand against them.

Years pass, and the world continues to heal from the wounds inflicted by the return of monsters. A new order emerges: that of the hunters. These brave individuals dedicate their lives to hunting down and slaying monsters for coin or glory. They are ranked according to their skills and prowess, with each rank representing a new level of mastery over their chosen craft.

As this new society takes shape, you watch from afar, your gaze fixed upon the mortals below.

As time goes on, you find yourself drawn deeper into the use of magic. While it once fueled your power and abilities, now it seems to consume you from within. You try to resist its siren song, but eventually give in, using more and more of your precious reserves until there is nothing left.

Your body begins to weaken, your vitality fading as the last vestiges of magic slip away from you.

As your life ebbs away, you find yourself at peace for the first time in many centuries. Your mortal body grows cold and still, finally freed from the burden of immortality. But even in death, you leave behind a legacy: the knowledge and techniques you gained throughout your long existence, passed down through generations of hunters who will continue to fight against the monsters that once threatened their world.

Your final resting place is lost to time, but your memory lives on, etched into the hearts of those few who knew of your existence.

You find yourself suddenly appearing in a shaft of light, your surroundings unfamiliar and strange. As your vision clears, you realize that you have been summoned into this world as a heroic spirit - a servant to the person who called upon your essence. This age is similar to the one you once knew, but here power plays a lesser role in determining hierarchy; instead, it seems that the spirits themselves are classified based on their backgrounds and abilities.

The one who summoned you is a young woman clad in robes adorned with intricate designs and shimmering with a faint aura of magic. Her eyes meet yours, filled with determination and curiosity. She holds out her hand to you, the gesture offering not only friendship but also respect and admiration.

"I am Kiriko," she says solemnly, "and I am honored that you have chosen to serve me."

Kiriko is a student at the prestigious Heroic Academy, where she trains to become a master of heroic spirits like yourself. She has already completed two years of studies and is now nearing graduation. The academy focuses on teaching its students how to harness the power of these spirits effectively, as well as separating those who are truly worthy from those who are not.

As a Lancer-class heroic spirit, you possess great strength and resilience, making you well suited for close-quarters combat.

You kneel before Kiriko, your eyes fixed on hers. She returns the gaze with equal measures of respect and determination. "Mizore," she says, her voice steady and strong, "I accept your allegiance." With these words, you become bound to her as your master.

Kiriko smiles warmly at you, her expression filled with gratitude and hope. "Now that we are partners," she continues, "together we shall achieve greatness!"

You kneel before Kiriko, your eyes fixed on hers. She returns the gaze with equal measures of respect and determination. "Mizore," she says, her voice steady and strong, "I accept your allegiance." With these words, you become bound to her as your master.

Kiriko smiles warmly at you, her expression filled with gratitude and hope. "Now that we are partners," she continues, "together we shall achieve greatness!"

The following day dawns bright and clear as Kiriko prepares for her day at the Heroic Academy. She dresses in her finest robes, adorned with symbols of your allegiance, and pins a small amulet bearing your likeness around her neck. The symbolism is not lost on you; it signifies that she believes in your abilities and trusts you to protect her when the need arises.

With one last reassuring smile, Kiriko bids you farewell, promising to return before long.

As Kiriko leaves for the academy, she performs a complex series of hand gestures and mutters an incantation under her breath. You feel yourself beginning to dissipate, your form fading from view as you are once again reduced to spirit form. But despite this change in state, you remain as vigilant as ever, following close behind Kiriko as she makes her way through the bustling streets of the academy grounds.