Football: My AI System Provides Max-Level Predictions - Chapter 197 - 168: A No-Looking Pass, Tearing Open Liverpool’s Defense with a Bloody Gap

A boy born with the potential, so great that it threatend the world's powerhouses itself._____Born amidst chaos and tragedy, Azhrael, the son of the legendary Frost King and Celestial Witch, carries a burden no child should bear. Half of his soul was dormant into another world, while the other half was left sealed, hidden from the prying eyes of those who sought to destroy him.He was a child of immense potential—his very existence threatened gods and shook the balance of power in the world.However in the main story, Azhrael was only an “extra.” A mysterious beautiful boy with snow-white hair and dull grey eyes who exists in the shadow of others, bullied and beaten, unaware of the legacy he carries.That Is Until.

With A Tale of Blades & Blood, the world of Avalion takes shape in the form of an all too familiar world. Filled with morals either clear or grey, war is inevitable while peace never lasts. Fifteen centuries of watchful peace and subtle tension have finally boiled, and the conflict rises once more, now filled with more bloodshed than ever before.Beyond the mountains of the Nortenhein, the Weslands arm themselves to take back their lands and bring forth to the south and the east A Bloody Winter. To the east, over hills and through forests of old and past the waters of the Red River, The East Plains stand tall with the Spire as its center, ready to fulfill their Dream of Vengeance. Deep in the south where the cities stand and to the west where the walls never crumble, steel meets steel as brother fights brother in A Dance of Fire and Swords.Witness the adventures of Orevian Ballister, Norien Ravenhan, Forien Strix, and Loran Aelond as they face battles of wits, blades, honor, glory, and tragedy in a story that shall never be forgotten:A Tale of Blades & Blood.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.