I became a god by treasure hunting after arriving 500 years early - Chapter 714 - 531: The Origin of the 【Ghost】

Strength.... That's all that matters in the end.

After being abandoned by his own family, and shunned for having no mana in a world dominated by magic, ex-prince Arvell Relas Vispia was forced to live on the streets with whatever meagre money he had left.

However, fate had something else in store for Arvell.

After meeting the spirit inhabiting his amulet, Arvell gets reborn as a Nephilim.

A being that has the powers of a god.

Time, Space, Life, Death.

All submitted to the authority of a Nephilim.

Betrayed by those he once called family, Arvell swore to get revenge.

Revenge on all those that mocked him and shunned him as a 'failure.'

Revenge on those who betrayed him without a second thought.

This is a tale of how a young prince shunned by the world as a 'failure' rises and ascends to the pinnacle of strength.

5 years ago, Earth was subject to an event now known as the “World Awakening”.

At that time, the world completely changed. Mana awakened in the world, gates began opening, and a holographic screen showed up in front of the eyes of every human that outlined their “status”.

Each individual was given a talent to start with, ranging from simple abilities like enhanced eyesight to insane fantasy stuff like pyrokinesis.

And within this myriad of abilities, Damien awakened a spatial affinity with the skill “short-distance teleportation”.

At first, he was excited, thinking about intense battles and gaining great power, but the reality was quick to shoot him down.

His ability only worked in the area 10 meters around himself, and his physical stats were insanely weak, leaving him tired after using his ability a couple of times.

Disillusioned by his weakness, Damien lived a quiet life doing anything he could to meet ends meet, until one day, everything changed.

Damien was betrayed and thrown into a gate, left to fend for himself in a labyrinth of beasts.

Something snapped in him that day. He refused to stay weak and keep his head down any longer.

When he emerged from the darkness, he found himself in a new world with no idea how to return to earth.

However, he wasn’t the same kid he was when he first fell.


=====

Discord: https://discord.gg/cJKqpyrj3E

=====

P.S. Cover is not mine. If the owner has any problems, I can remove it.

A smutty LitRPG with a futa lead.Long-running. Support me at Pat.treon.com/winterwhereof and receive early chapters.***Levels. Skills. Dungeons.As a nineteen year old living in modern society, these are terms Zoey is aware of. But had she ever expected to experience these videogame abstractions in the literal sense? To struggle through monster-infested realms, earning skills, casting spells, and acquiring rare and magical items?Obviously not.And more than the strange environment she finds herself in, Zoey contends with the bizarre reality of her class. Of being summoned by a sensual, perverted goddess who has gleefully bestowed a throbbing length between Zoey’s legs, then sent her off with a single unhelpful instruction: to save the world, and ascend to divinity while doing so.It’s all a bit much.But with so many cute girls to lay conquest to, and a new piece of equipment to help her along the way … well, things could be much, much worse.

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.