Online Game: Bugged Talent Unlimited Growth - Chapter 191 - : Destroy the World, Twilight Sets! Shocking the World!

A military enthusiast with dreams of serving, shaped by his father’s influence and a bookshelf full of war theories, finds himself unexpectedly reborn into a fantasy world he’d recently read about.Now an orphan, he faces impending destitution in a land governed by strict caste systems. But with the Reich Empire Academy Entrance Exam as his potential salvation, he’s armed not with magic, but with a vast knowledge of military tactics from his past life. As the date of his expulsion from the orphanage looms, he’s determined to leverage his unique skills to change his fate.

And so Arascus, God of Pride, waited. He waited for his defeat as the forces of Heaven & Hell combined descended upon him. He waited as they tried to kill him. He waited as they locked him away. He waited for a thousand years in that dark prison.

[Disclaimer:This is not a story for the faint-hearted. It explores the darkest aspects of humanity—where morality is shattered, and power takes its place. Most readers won’t have the courage to face this unrelenting descent into shadows.I'm once again telling you if you can't handle deaths and violence and you seek happiness then please do not even touch this Novel.But maybe, just maybe, you’re different. Strong enough to confront the abyss and see what lies beyond.if so Prove it.][Synopsis]:In a world teetering on the edge of chaos, seven empires vie for dominance, each more ruthless than the last. At the heart of this dark tapestry lies Narzan, a nation feared and despised, where cruelty is law and ambition a deadly game. The lands of mortals are but a fragile sanctuary, bordered by forbidden realms—the infernal Demon Realm, where nightmares are born; the accursed Lost Soul Realm, where the damned wander endlessly; and the enigmatic Elven Kingdom, shrouded in secrets and ancient power. These realms whisper of horrors and treasures that could reshape the very fabric of existence.Above it all looms the Weave of Magic, an ancient force that binds life, death, and destiny. It stirs ominously, its threads tangling with shadows of betrayal, vengeance, and destruction. In this world where the strong devour the weak, hope is a fleeting illusion, and mercy is a tale for the foolish.Veythor is a man cursed by the fates, his existence a relentless cycle of suffering. Across three lives, he has endured betrayal, torment, and death. On Earth, he was a man broken by those he trusted—betrayed by family, ruined by love, and condemned to die in despair. In his second life, he met an even crueler fate, falling prey to monsters in human form. But Thalvoria, his third life, is the cruelest of all.A vast and merciless world, Thalvoria is ruled by beings of unimaginable power. Here, mages can sunder mountains with a thought, empires rise and fall in rivers of blood, and forgotten gods slumber beneath the earth. Mythical beasts stalk cursed forests, and the lands themselves seem to hunger for suffering. In Thalvoria, even the heavens cast shadows, and every choice is a gamble with damnation.Yet Veythor, battered and scarred, refuses to succumb. Haunted by memories of his past lives, he begins to weave his pain into something more dangerous. Every betrayal fuels his resolve, every scar sharpens his will. As the balance of power begins to shift and the Weave of Magic tightens its grip on the world, Veythor sets his sights on a singular goal: to seize control of his cursed destiny, no matter the cost.But in a land where salvation and damnation are two sides of the same coin, what will remain of a man who refuses to die?When the world itself hungers for blood, Veythor will rise—or he will drag all of Thalvoria into the abyss with him.

The world was destroyed, the apocalypse descended, a new era began, and the right to survive as a Lord was granted to every person.Domains, Heroes, Troops, Treasures, Resources—all of the countless servers constructed by the myriad continents were opened up.Qin Muye looked at his panel, which was akin to cannon fodder, and his domain with its damaged suffix, and felt a strong urge to cry but no tears would come.No divine talent, no hidden hints, no overpowered Profession.“If that's the case, then I'll just have to adapt and live in a different way.”