MTL - The Demonic Ancestor who Desired Supremacy - Chapter 31 Parting ways

Soyun enters a place called Wonderland inside a book through her dreams but for some reason, Alice was dead?! Soyun is forced to become ‘Alice’ in order to help the winter rabbit in the book and tries her best to escape the book.

Nine Tribulation Immortal Emperor, reborn in the city!One Earth, one Immortal Realm, the difference is as vast as that between heaven and earth!

Grim Reaper

Pursue the power of waves, keep company with the darkness, practice thunder and lightning waves, I am the ‘Emperor of Heaven’

Honing the power of blood, fighting with madness, becoming a blood demon and killing the sky, I am the “devil god”

…………

Traveling into the world of the god of death, with the template of a dnf ghost swordsman, since the god of death has a king, and the destroyer has a king, then I will become the king of the void!

Asura, Berserker, Devil May Cry, Sword Soul, Sword Shadow, Dark Warrior, Wandering Warrior, Demon Contractor, Sword Rider, Dark Templar, all of them are me!

I am the ancient apostle, the God of Death in the Tower of Delusion, the Void King of the Tower of Despair, I am…

In the beginning!

The vest flow in this book, the behind-the-scenes flow, although the plot line started two thousand years ago, it will quickly transition to the plot

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”