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Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Earth has undergone an odd change. Expanding by millions of times its original size, its population was suddenly split into two halves. On one side, there was a group of technologically advanced humans. But, on the other, a world of cultivation had grown and pospered. The secrets that led to this change have been hidden in the darkness for too long... Until there came a day where a boy born on the Mortal side of the world was found to have the talent to enter the Martial side. Having lost both of his parents to a hidden tide, he chose to leave all that he had known behind and enter this land of danger. What truths would he unveil? What would he learn about what separated the Mortals from the Cultivators? What hidden evils wanted to ensure that his people never rose up and gained power? And how would those evils... deal with him? ---- This list of things I hate is quite long. The first is that I hate to be tested the most. The second is that I hate to be tested the most. The third also happens to be that I hate to be tested the most. The ocean's depths are too shallow, the sun's light too dim, the ground too mundane and the skies too small. For those born of this colorless world to deem themselves worthy of casting judgement on me... I can only say that it's laughable. I am the Nameless Immortal God because even the Heavens themselves are unworthy to name me. Even while I am unaware of my own identity, I will dry the oceans until cracked land is all that is left, I will cast the sun into endless darkness, I will shatter the ground with my feet and sunder the skies with my blade. Am I too arrogant? What right do you have to think that? --- https://discord.gg/awespec

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2335 Chs

Villain

One had an exceptionally large gut that was completely disproportionate to the rest of his body. To make matters weirder, his movement skill was even more famous than his alchemy skill. As such, he was known as the Crane Immortal God.

His opponent was known as Alchemy God Millman. He was as thin as a branch and the only hair on his body, whether that be his head or otherwise, was a singular coarse, grey mustache. It was so thick that both of its pieces were larger than his nose and they curled upward into swirls as though he was a textbook villain.

As these two old men stood from their seats, an imposing aura leaked from their bodies. It didn't seem that they had done it on purpose, but rather that an energy that had long since been repressed in their bodies was slowly bubbling forth.

Nazaire's respectful appearance also receded. He seemed like a man who simply waited on these two, but this wasn't the truth at all.