Asura Mad Emperor - Chapter 745: The Crushing Mantra

“We campaigned for a century, prevailing against all obstacles. The sole exception being the Marshal, who could not be defeated…… the military fame of the Marshal endures, yet the Alliance has been utterly crushed. From this day forth, all the glory belongs to the Marshal, himself.”

As the Alliance government that stood for a thousand years crumbled, the Galactic Empire rose into power. The supreme military leader of the Alliance, Gavin Silla, refused to surrender and chose to fight to the death for his nation.

“Your Majesty, in the Age of Old Earth, mint blossoms were believed to be an omen for reunion. In the language of flowers, it means—

—hoping to see you once more.”

- Description from Novelupdates

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.

❗[Current Writing Contest-WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 Fantas]❗Flain grew up in a futuristic world. When he was born his parents didn't want him because he didn't live up to their expectations and so he ended up very badly.Flain was employed as a slave. He was forced to mine radioactive iron deep in the mines. It was drilled into his head that he existed only to obey orders.Young Flain was obedient. He doubted some of it but knew nothing else. For years, he never saw a single ray of light; light was only spoken of among the others as a legend.The routine was the same: in the morning, he would take a nutrient tablet and water. Then he would mine all day, sleep eight hours, and repeat.Flain worked like this from childhood until he was ten years old. He even found a friend, but that friend died of radiation poisoning right in front of Flain. Flain couldn't stop mining. He kept mining with tears streaming down his face.Before bed, Flain cried. “I will become the strongest. I will kill you all, and you will become my slaves.”Flain stopped crying, stared blankly at the rocky ceiling, then looked ahead. A manic grin appeared on his face, one that would often adorn it from that moment on.At the age of ten, Flain was assigned to a military camp due to his endurance in the mines and his survival against radiation.In the camp, Flain was trained. The regime was much looser; he even had an hour of free time each day. However, Flain didn't make any more friends. Even during his free time, he trained with a smile. He would achieve his goal at any cost, even if it meant training himself to death.Experiments were conducted on Flain. He lost his hair, two long gray arms grew on his back, and a third red eye appeared. Flain became a mutant.Flain was then sent to war. He fought with sharp katabas. He performed quite well in the war, earning himself command of ten soldiers and becoming a small commander.But one day, everything changed.Flain then dies, is swallowed by darkness, and Flain refuses to die, thus appearing as a skeleton in a fantasy world.

“According to prophecy and scientific calculations, the entire world will see temperatures drop to minus forty degrees within three years, and even the earth's core will be frozen within three hundred years.”“What should we do?”“Gather all our strength, build a shelter together with unwavering unity. In the face of disaster, we must stand united, and everyone needs to do whatever they can to ensure a future for humanity!”“But what if someone refuses to work and just wants to eat and be lazy?”“Then let them die! Activate the alchemy golems and large robots, we do not support idlers!”Set in a scenario similar to Frostpunk, with fantasy elements and a steampunk background, viewer discretion is advised.