Ex-Wife is a Big Villainess - Chapter 975 - 475: The Change of the Sky Demon Sect

[WPC April Entry] Check out my second book: Born from stardust! Support the novel with your reviews, power stones, collections, etc. It will be greatly appreciated.

******

In a fantasy world shrouded in a veil of mystery and darkness, a sinister threat lurks among the shadows, weaving its plan from the depths of a forgotten past. In a realm where magic and wonder coexist with the persistent presence of an ancient evil, Anthony finds himself immersed in an intricate web of mysteries that seem to intertwine around him.

The emergence of this voracious darkness threatens to devour everything in its path, and as Anthony embarks on a desperate quest for truth, he faces moral dilemmas that tear at his soul, betrayals he never imagined, and sacrifices that defy all logic.

On his journey, every shadow seems to hide a secret, every step towards the light reveals a new layer of darkness. Who is friend and who is foe in this dangerous game of power and deception? What ancestral forces stir beneath the surface, waiting for their moment to emerge and lay waste to everything in their path?

With each discovery, Anthony delves deeper into a maze of intrigue and danger, where the very future of his world hangs by a thread, and the only certainty is that the truth is even more elusive than the shadows that conceal it.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.

The world ended.Zombies and monsters rose. Cities crumbled.And Merek? He woke up in the apocalypse with a job that lets him create armor for lingering souls—spirits without bodies, desperate for purpose.Turns out, the dead don’t rest easy. Some are angry. Some vengeful. Others? Just lost. When Merek binds them into steel warframes, they don’t just fight... they evolve.Now, he leads a legion of the undead—ghosts in armor, bound to him by oath and fate.Faction leaders call him mad. Warlords want him dead. And God? If He’s watching, He’s not talking.Merek was supposed to die with everyone else.Instead, he got a support type job no one’s heard of... and a shot at rewriting his pathetic Earth-life.In this world, only the fittest survive.And Merek? He’s got undeads in steel at his side.