Miracle Doctor Abandoned Daughter The Sly Emperor's Wild Beast-Tamer Empress - Chapter 127: “I’m Not Small, Just Young!”

The war between justice and evil has lasted for thousands of years.

The evil alliance headed by the five-color dragon is retreating steadily in the war against humans.

The old continent has been lost, and the five-colored dragons have retreated to the new continent to survive. The human side has won a great victory. At the point of the long sword, the evil race is defeated and defeated.

Plains, mountains, seas, ice fields, underground, deserts, plateaus, forests, all the places in the world that can stand, there are human beings everywhere.

Even swamps, a world where human beings cannot live at all, are decreasing day by day under the persistent policy of human beings to fill in swamps and reclaim land.

In this moment of despair.

In the dark swamp, three dragon eggs left behind by a certain female black dragon in order to escape slowly hatched.

…

Ace wakes up from the darkness and learns that he is about to face a dire situation for the entire human world.

Rack your brains to survive.

Rainforest grafting, swamp planting, absolute militarization, exhausting all methods to farm desperately to improve combat effectiveness.

In the face of the enemy, you can’t be soft, your genes are deteriorating, your will is weakened, and you can eat away at every step.

Hundreds of years later, the black wings covering the sky enveloped the world, and tens of millions of dark legions rushed towards the human world like a tide.

With a population of tens of millions and three million soldiers, the empire is left with only a dying force, which is overwhelmed by the tide-like army of monsters.

The millennium-old empire collapsed, the sculptures of heroes turned into dust, and the magnificent temple was burned.

Among the ruins, the world crowned Ace.

Readership (anyone can apply)

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- Description from novelbuddy

Humanity was on the brink of destruction. Muyoung, an assassin from the Forest of Death, fell to his knees. There were corpses all around him. For years, he had worked for the Forest of Death and had finally been able to eradicate them. Now, he, himself, was about to die. He closed his eyes as he felt his heart stop beating.

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.”

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