I, The Dragon Overlord - Chapter 658 - The Weapon Against the Burrower Beneath

She is the wife completely ignored by him, yet also the woman he most cherishes. Ultimately, she forces her husband to divorce her by taking on the identity of a lover!She steals vital information and, carrying this man's premium seed, successfully makes her getaway!Six years later, father and son have their first online confrontation. The little bean successfully infiltrates the man's system and sighs at her, “Mom, this person is so dumb. Is he really my dad?”Mu Yiliang pats her son's head and says reassuringly, “He was so terribly fooled by me back then, which shows his IQ is very low. Luckily, you inherited mine!”Unbeknownst to them, the man on the other end of the computer has already listened to the conversation between mother and son. He sneers coldly, “Very low IQ? Mu Yiliang, let's see where you're going to run this time!”

Henry Morris, the 8th-Circle Mage, stood on the execution platform.

When the emperor, his friend, had passed, his son had became a puppet of the nobles. Soon after, a purge had ensued, led by the forces opposing Henry.

Even in the face of death, all Henry could think was that he hated the new emperor and the nobles.

Just as he thought it was all over, Henry suddenly found himself in a new body—one with the potential to become a swordsman. An 8th-Circle Mage, reborn as a swordsman.

With both powers now at his disposal, Henry’s revenge was only a matter of time.

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The story begins with the last day of Yggdrasil, a popular online game which is being quietly shut down. Our protagonist Momonga decides to stay in his beloved game until the last moment, so waits for the forced logout. Unexpectedly, the server does not shut down and Momonga is stuck in a skeleton avatar in another world. “The powerful Overlord” needs now to discover the new world and face the continuous challenges that arise.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”