MTL - The Lord of the Rings: Lords of Middle-earth - Chapter 227 Forward

One day a young man found a mysterious door in his grand father house and that door transported him to Tensura....welcome to the new world...all the credit for the characters and main story goes to the owners, this is just a fanfic none of the characters or the storyline belongs to me...Tensura won't be live until later in the chapters, so if you in a rush, you can quick rocks...

Once upon a time, a boy was referred to as a “War Hero.”

In another world called Aletia, the boy who had saved the Lost Kingdom, conquered their neighbouring countries, and led to the rise of a grand empire decided to throw everything away, returning to the modern era at the cost of his memories.

As three years passed, the boy who was happily enjoying his daily life was once again called back to the other world.

However, what awaited him was the Aletia of 1000 years in the future.

As his past glories became a “myth,” the legend of the youth referred to as the, “Twin Black Hero King,” begins.

Twenty years ago, she was taken in as the Lin family’s young heiress through a twist of fate. But mistakes would eventually be corrected one day. When the real daughter of the family returned and her foster parents begged her to stay, she obliged. Unbeknownst to her, this was actually a scheme disguised as familial affection. They only kept her around to squeeze her dry of all her value!

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.”