Frozen Flame of Dawn - Chapter 139 - 65: The Last Light Before Dusk_3

The novel Chronicles of the Hero of Frosimar is a story about the failures of the protagonist not the successes.“It’s not good.”The First Emperor, who conquered the whole world, closed his eyes with a brief appreciation (after reading the novel).But the moment he opened his eyes again, there were only a few lines about him in the Chronicles of the Hero of Frosimar.This was because he became an imprisoned prince who met death with his first appearance (in the novel).

When Fang Yuan was transmigrated into a world where Gu Breeder was the main profession, he found that he was not gifted.

Not only that, the Gu in his body could cultivate on their own.

[Your Iron Skin Gu has trained profoundly and has achieved the Gold-grade!]

[Your Bloodthirsty Gu has begun to multiply itself into a swarm of Bloodthirsty Gus!]

[Your Sunlight Gu has been absorbing the power of the sun for years and has gathered the Truth Flame of the Sun!]

[Your Drunken Gu has evolved into a Soul-reaping Gu. Your control over it has risen by 100 folds!]

[Your Flying Sword Gu was hurt in battle. Amid its desperation, it has evolved into a Sword God Gu!]

“Heck, even Gu undergoes involution as well now?” Fang Yuan let out a sigh.

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

- Description from novelupdates

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

—— Dickens《A Tale of Two Cities》

I made myself a ghost back to life from death, with hatred in my bones and conspiracy brewed for years, sinking into the marsh, into the abyss. All I want is to bury the rotten roots, growing thistles and thorns which can kill like upas, to stab into the hypocritical civilization.

In the bottom of the muck……I found my lucida.

- Description from Novelupdates