Rebirth of the Strongest Empress - Chapter 201: Sect Mission (3)

The tens of thousands of universes have merged. The disintegration of spiritual force led to the momentous collapse of the great Cultivation World, a mighty era that had endured through millions of years of history. In the wake of the large-scale invasion of the Wilderness, the Avalon of Five Elements has become the practitioners’ last stand.

After dying from a gunshot, Reo meets the goddess Ophelia who offers him a rare chance. Instead of being reincarnated with no memory of his past, he can come back to a new world with the offer of receiving a legacy as well.Reo gets to choose from six legacy cards, each offering different powers. One card is blank—a risky option with slim chances of getting a good legacy from it. Ignoring the goddess’s warning, Reo picks the blank card and to both their surprise, he gets the SSS Rank Dark Dragon Legacy, a type of legacy so rare that only one human in Ophelia's world has ever had it.Reo is Reborn as Silva, he’s quickly labeled a failure by his noble family because he lacked magical ability at the moment , due to his legacy not yet awakened. His father, embarrassed and harsh, orders his death, but his mother begs for his life, sending him away to be raised by another family in a far-off town.Silva awakens his Dark Dragon Legacy, growing at a rate that was beyond normal, as he tried to understand the task the goddess had in mind for him, while still enjoying his new life.He also made out some time to pay his father back

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.”