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Silent Caster's Journey:A hero, a villain and a Psychopath

The story follows Onver, a mute character who has endured nightmares since childhood. Bullied relentlessly by his acquaintances and falsely accused by the democratic world of Earth, he experiences a series of misfortunes and terrifying nightmares. Consequently from his childhood, because of that he develops a conflicting bipolar personality that constantly battles between an urge to kill and the suppression of such thoughts. However, Onver's life takes an unexpected turn when he is kidnapped by a secret organization conducting human experiments. He becomes the subject of a torturous experiment and eventually loses his life. but wait he once again Awakens in the same world and same body. Upon awakening, he finds himself back on Earth, only to discover extraordinary hidden realms coexisting alongside Earth. These mystical realms are brimming with magic and inhabitants unlike those on Earth. As the boundaries between those realms blur, with the magical realm encroaching upon Earth, Onver embarks on an epic journey within this wondrous land. Along his path, he must grapple with his internal struggles, confront his haunting past, and unearth the truth hidden within his newfound existence. -------------- [{Warning: This work is purely fiction, and it does not promote any kind of violence against any living being. Please read with caution. This contains hardcore gore and psychologically twisted things }] Tags |Dark| Evil | Mute Mc | Slow pace | Weak to strong| [Antihero] |Wrong to evil |Tragedy | Dark humour | Magical Mystery | No system or reincarnation | Slow development |

Uncle_Moon · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
165 Chs

Death door : Battle for Survival

Onver's vision blurred as pain surged through his body, an overwhelming darkness threatening to consume him.

He struggled to maintain consciousness, his willpower fighting against the agony that threatened to engulf him.

Every breath was a battle, each heartbeat a reminder of the peril he faced.

In that desperate moment, he clung to a glimmer of hope, summoning every ounce of determination he had left.

The crowd watched in hushed anticipation, unaware of the internal struggle within Onver.

He didn't fly back or get propelled; instead, the sword hung in his abdomen, buried deep within.

The blood-tainted edge of the sword bathed in crimson fluids.

The fluid travelled on the sword and then dripped to the ground with the sound of the tip—tip, tip.

Each drop sounded like a reminder to Onver that the adversary he was facing was dangerous.