Lord of Mysteries: Starting As A Reader - Chapter 1182: Diary

Within the dream of the dreamer, the one who was dreamed of awoke.

… Borges

“I exist in the sunlight, the wind, between the heavens and the earth, and also in dreams.”

One night, Yu Hao, a college student who was at his wits’ end had an unexpected encounter with a mysterious visitor – “General” – who had dream travelled. He led Yu Hao in solving the countless riddles that abounded in the realm of the conscious, and lit up the fire beacons on the meandering Great Wall.

Thereafter, the darkness retreated, the sun rose, and when the long night was thoroughly lit up, the him who existed in reality was reborn.

The black dragon that roared, the lighthouse and demonic eye on the coastline, the rain forest before Chichén Itzá, the fierce beasts that wreaked havoc in the Colosseum…the bizarre projection of reality in one’s consciousness reflected the hidden place that the sunlight in reality couldn’t touch – the innumerable sins of the human heart.

The journey of seizing dreams continues, and one can only hope that the sun will continue illuminating the human heart.

…

Fire beacons on the Great Wall were lit up to signal a border invasion.

- Description from Novelupdates

Caelith doesn't want too much in life, a clean home, a happy mother, and maybe a girlfriend. Raised in the Stormont manner, one of the highest ranking noble household in the kingdom, he grew up a bastard, mistreated and abused by the main lineage.At the tender age of sixteen nobles undergo a divine ceremony, receiving the opportunity to be blessed by the gods however he receives Nothing.Caelith struggles in this world but at the end of the day, He is Nobody, and he has Nothing.

With the revival of spiritual energy and the breakdown of the order of species, it is a difficult test whether human beings can still stand at the top of the biological chain.

(There is already an old book, The Strongest Descends in the City, you can read it.)

- Description from novelbuddy

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”