I Have Countless Clones - Chapter 270 - : Human-Faced Owl (1)

Echoes of the Lost Elf – Back Cover SynopsisA legend long forgotten. A war long past. A magus who vanished into history.A thousand years ago, Historias Everglen, the greatest magician to ever walk the earth, mysteriously disappeared after leading the world to victory in the First War against the Void. The high elf, creator of Castellas Academy, the most prestigious magic institution, faded into myth—his name spoken only in whispers, his fate unknown.But history does not stay buried forever.When a group of young students, lost in the Everglen Forest, stumbles upon an enigmatic figure in the heart of the ancient woods, they unknowingly awaken an echo of the past. Unrecognized, Historias decides to return to his own academy—not as its master, but as a student. Beneath his youthful guise lies an immortal being who has spent a millennium mastering magic, swordsmanship, and alchemy in solitude.As shadows of the Void begin to stir once more, the world stands on the brink of another catastrophe. Enemies rise, secrets unravel, and forgotten legends take their place in the present. But one question lingers:Will the world recognize its lost protector before it’s too late?

Religious and cultural schisms wreak havoc on its internal politics, while revolutions are brewing in neighboring kingdoms. The aristocratic houses play endless power games amongst themselves, and the Emperor desperately abuses what little influence he has left to keep his rivals down.Amidst all of this, Arnold von Hohenfels, first son of the Margrave of Hohenfels, finds himself in the unfortunate position of having to attend the Imperial Academy, a notorious battleground of wits and brawn for ambitious young nobles.Armed with a magical gift that is as much a blessing as it is a curse, he must learn to navigate the treacherous waters of aristocratic entanglements. In the name of his family’s ambition, he must represent House Hohenfels' interests in this microcosm of Imperial politics, deal with his formidable enemies, form alliances of his own, and somehow keep his brash cousin Friedrich out of trouble.Frankly, he would much rather be anywhere else.

Have you ever wondered what lies beyond what you perceive as your reality?What lies beyond the “truth” that everyone around you tells you is “just the way it is”?Have you never pondered on what your limit is in this life of yours? “Can I go further? Can I do more?”And yet you end up settling when you think you have reached that “limit.” But why? Why should you settle? There is always going to be something further, something 'beyond'.This is a story about a boy named Azmond who was reincarnated from planet Earth into the Cultivation World of Asterion... A world where the strong rule and the weak are forced to kneel. If Azmond wishes to gain power in this new mysterious world then he must be willing to sacrifice more than anybody else, he who wants to know just how far he can go, a boy with the sole goal of attaining power above all else.Little does Azmond know, that there is a price to pay for everything and that price will be painful, so very excruciating that every fiber of his being will wish for death... but Azmond will continue. He will persevere until he can't anymore... For that is his will.

I was sixteen when the gods abandoned me.The Blessing Ritual was supposed to grant me power, a divine gift to carve my future. Instead, I received nothing. No abilities. No hope. Just another nameless soul left to rot in a world ruled by strength.Fine. If the gods wouldn’t bless me, I’d make my own power.For ten years, I clawed my way forward, experimenting with forces no human should touch. I pushed too far—and it killed me.Then I woke up.Sixteen again. Back at the Ritual. But this time, something changed.Time bends at my will. Blood moves when I command it.The gods still won’t acknowledge me, but it doesn’t matter. This world isn’t fair, and I’ve stopped playing by its rules. Faith and Chaos clash in my veins, and I will use them both.They wanted a Chosen Hero, someone to dance to their tune.Well, too bad for them—I’ll carve my own fate.