Peak Cultivator's Slice of Life - Chapter 3: Sacred Silk Realm

It was in the year 2800 of the Midgard calendar. Back then, there was a Overlord who once reigned supreme and had reached the very brink of subduing the world.

In Azeroth, a young man, touched by arcane energies, embarks on an extraordinary journey. Driven by an unyielding pursuit of love and justice and a staunch refusal to become a mere ghoul, he seeks to reclaim lost justice and restore humanity's fading light. His arcane might shall not falter.Azeroth will know the name David Edmund Duke.I'm doing this because I saw that the translator didn't finish his work with the words check patreon for more chapther! How dare he! He shall rue the day he left a work unfinished!As for the other fic! Don't worry I'll update regularly! It also depends on the author and his lazy ass.Anyways enjoy!

A thousand years ago, the world shattered.Mana surged into existence, rewriting reality itself. Dungeons tore through the land, birthing monstrous horrors, while beasts mutated under the influence of Primordial Ki, evolving into unstoppable apex predators. Humanity was on the brink of annihilation—until the Awakened emerged, wielding supernatural power to defy extinction.Yet, in this brutal new world, strength reigns supreme, and weakness is a death sentence.Amidst it all, Azvoid Larkson—a nameless figure among the countless struggling to survive—awakens a power beyond reason. A power tied to ancient, forgotten dragons—beasts feared even by the strongest Awakened.With each battle, he ascends. With every dragon he tames, his legend grows.In a world where only the strong thrive, how far can one man rise?

In a realm where even the faintest shadows whisper untold tales, I came to realize that the forgotten often hold the most powerful narratives.As an avid admirer of the world's most beloved series, I never imagined that one night's rest would pull me into its very fabric.“Why on earth am I stuck in this world? And why, of all people, am I him?”I had become Arthur Nightingale—Class A’s most unremarkable student. A magic swordsman barely worthy of mention, ranked 8th among the first-years. A mere footnote in the grand story.Still, with this body’s abilities and my own insider knowledge, I figured I could carve out a peaceful life. Or so I believed.“This was the only way,” the voice repeated, resolute. “The only way to stop her.”Little did I know how truly unique Arthur Nightingale was—or the path this journey would force me to take...