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#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#R18
#MAGIC
#HAREM
#DARK
#OVERPOWERED
#CULTIVATION
#ANTIHERO

Paragon of Death

Life from birth has been nothing but hell. I lost my parents to some stupid aristocrats whom they offended. Executed for no good reason. My relatives abandoned me and pushed me aside. They feared for their lives and left me and my sister to starve and wander the streets alone! No, this is worse than hell! I watched my sister die of starvation. Her lips were dry and her feet bloody. Her nails were broken and her fingers riddled with cuts. She struggled in my hands and after a few seconds of struggle she passed away. She seemed joyful in death so I prayed mine will come just as swift and merciful as hers. So I stayed in the alleyway, alone with her rotten corpse awaiting my fate for God knows how long. I could see it already. The darkness encroaching from all sides Everyone said death is scary but I say it's the end! Who needs life after death? What is the need for reincarnation? Who would want to return to this crazy world? "It's not yet time for you to go... You have one more task to accomplish as my host" A voice called out to me. I could barely see or speak but how can I miss such a beautiful face? It was an extremely handsome man who gazed at me with tender eyes. "Haven't I suffered enough? Can't I just rest?" I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world? "Don't you want to avenge the death of your parents? Don't you want to become something greater? I can make that happen!" The beautiful man said with an alluring voice. "You... Who are you?" I asked with an anxious heart. My parents always said God is the only one who cares about me! Maybe in my final hours, he has come to save me. "Call me Death..."

3_Sins_Studios · Fantasy
Zu wenig Bewertungen
691 Chs
#ACTION
#ADVENTURE
#R18
#MAGIC
#HAREM
#DARK
#OVERPOWERED
#CULTIVATION
#ANTIHERO

Path to the warrior realm

Amidst the turmoil of battle and the desperate struggle between Derek and Mozan, a sudden and thunderous sound reverberated through the battlefield. Two vampires, members of the Blood Tribe, had managed to break free from the encirclement of werewolves, their senses attuned to the distress of their chieftain. With unwavering determination, they raced toward Derek, their crimson eyes burning with fierce loyalty to their leader.

"Hmph."

Derek, however, regarded their approach with an air of disdain. He snorted derisively, his crimson eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. His mastery over the elements was far-reaching, and he seized the very winds themselves, yanking them down with a palpable force.

Drawing upon his blood control magic, Derek began to manipulate the remaining five blood tendrils that hung suspended in the air. His control over these malevolent extensions of his power was absolute, and he used them as instruments of his will.