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Warlock of War: My Ares System

Check out my other novels - |Arpious of the Planes| |The Rise of Quetzalcoatl| |Warlock of Wisdom: My Odin System| -- Same Universe - |Warlock of Wisdom: My Odin System| |Warlock of Oceans: My Poseidon System| ------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a cold and lonely death on the battlefield despite the thousands of warriors around me and the beating sun shining upon my corpse. In the year 431, I had died on the battlefield. I was reincarnated into a new world, hoping my life would be better, but I ended up in a more miserable situation than before. As the sickness began to eat the insides of my mother, a saving grace that would pull me out of the darkness, but into the abyss... had come. [A system is being chos- [Interference by higher being] [Error] [Authority is insuffici- [Error] [Authority is sufficient] [Your god has been selected] [Your system has been granted] [Ares System is being installed] ------------------------------------------------------------------- Please inform me in the comments of a chapter if it seems unreadable because there are times when I get so bored that I just don't edit it. -- Twitter - @equuipwebnovel Discord - equuip#6686 -- paypal.me/AuthorEquuip Any money you send will help me commission people to create new covers for my novels. -- Thank you to dini_galeri for the amazing artwork!

equuip · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
865 Chs

Circle of Gluttony (8)

Baron Rotgut, with his rotting form and foul powers, is a symbol of the inevitable decay that plagues the realm of Gluttony. In the Fetid Marshes, where the stench of death hangs heavy in the air and the ground is choked with rotting vegetation, Rotgut's presence is felt in every decaying leaf and bloated corpse.

Within this incredibly toxic and desolate landscape, Rotgut commands the natural processes of decay with a malevolent mastery that borders on the supernatural. His very touch can turn the freshest fruit to mold and the purest water to sludge, leaving behind nothing but a foul miasma of putrefaction and decay.

The denizens of the Fetid Marshes, grotesque creatures and twisted spirits alike, cower in fear before the Baron of Decay, for they know that his wrath is swift and merciless. Those who dare to oppose him are swiftly reduced to little more than rotting husks, their flesh consumed by the inexorable tide of decay that follows in his wake.