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From Secret Clan to the Divine Dynasty

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle. The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations. They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family. They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics. From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears. They were both the creators and the enders of stories. Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward. "Step over my corpse and go on," he said.

Chilled Cola Cat · Urbain
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615 Chs

375

Despair was like the icy tide, silently but irresistibly submerging everyone's hope.

Self-blame was like an invisible chain, tightly binding Byrne.

He replayed every detail in his mind over and over, each magnified infinitely, blaming himself for not having made a wiser choice when it mattered.

However, things hadn't yet reached the point of no return.

Byrne still held his "ace in the hole" close to his chest.

Suddenly, the air was filled with a heart-throbbing fluctuation, as if even time had frozen.

The black-robed figure with Black Starlight for hands gently waved them as if performing some ancient ritual, and following that, a ball of dark energy so thick it was almost tangible coalesced in his palms, its depths seemingly able to perceive the end of all things in the world.

With a deep, powerful chant, the dark energy burst forth, turning into a black shooting star that tore through the night sky with incredible speed, nearly surpassing the limits of visual capture.