I Became the Student Council President of Academy City - Chapter 7.1

A false Sword Saint: Faintly discernible Martial Art and a matchless Sword Art. Killing one man with every ten steps, no traces left behind in ten miles.

A genuine Sword Saint: A deep and resounding bloodline, peerless strength, an inexhaustible power and one chop to destroy the world.

This is the story of a Swords Saint taking the path of a tank who cuts everything down on his path.

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In the realms above, supernatural beings of unfathomable magnificence exist, far beyond mortal comprehension. These divinities wield unimaginable power, capable of obliterating worlds with a mere breath.However, what unfolds when these gods meet their demise?Set in a remote corner of the vast universe, long after the apocalyptic Thousand Millennium War of the Heavenly Beasts and Deities, this tale delves into a forgotten world. Here, the ashes of fallen gods descend upon an insignificant pebble, adrift amidst the cosmic tapestry of space and time.Their impact alters the life of a proud young man, who embraces the abrupt changes thrust upon his world. Refusing to yield to the clutches of fate and karma, he dares to defy the heavens themselves.Will he triumph over an insurmountable destiny, or succumb to fate like gods of unimaginable might did before him?The dreams of a deceased deity and the fate of a dying world hang precariously, hinged upon the future of this young man. He treads upon an endless bridge, forged from the corpses of the fallen.Unlock this epic saga of death, sorrow, war, blood, love, vengeance, and triumph with your own eyes.

The queen’s essential feature is this: [must be a woman or a feminine-looking man].

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.