MTL - Urban Evil Doctor - Chapter 5431 If not, how about changing your surname?

In the year of 632, a young Emperor was crowned at an age of eight. He was crowned with a crown of a dying Empire, plagued by enemies, internal strife and plague. This was the Sassanid Empire, and he was Yazdegerd III, the last Sassanid Emperor. He was meant to guide the Empire out of these dark times and he was meant to revive the fallen giant.

But it was not to be. After continuous defeats of the Sassanids, the Empire eventually succumbed to the pressure, both external and internal.

But what if?

Table of Contents:

This story contains numerous points of view - you will be told the story and its parts through the eyes of more than one person.

There will be romance - at least I hope so. I am not sure how I'll develop the relationship between the main couple, but I plan to have a bit of romance there.

This story isn't Self-Insert.

There will be many characters, some more important than others.

Although this is a fiction, most of the characters and events occuring are real and this book works with historical events.

And last but not least, you may find this book offensive. After all, it rewrites history completely. And if you do, just don't read it.

Enjoy!

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Kurt was born to a poor Baronetcy of Arnold. He was a genius pastry chef in the previous world.

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.

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