PREVIEW

... ore he came back to his senses.

The two versions of the prophecies were diametrically opposed, seeming as though they might have been deliberately fabricated by two opposing Schools.

It also felt ridiculous, as if by covering all possible answers, they would never be wrong.

Yet the leaders of both Schools were figures of Divine Level status; would they make careless prophecies for such reasons?

A Prophet is called so because what they know precedes common knowledg ...

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE
Your Talent is MineChapter 1133: The Supreme True Ancestor Intervenes!
 154.2k
4.0/5(votes)
ActionFantasySupernaturalAdventure

The young man Ye Tian obtains the ability to copy the talents of others and now fights against the heavens to change his fate. He struggles to survive and protect his sister from the apocalypse of the alien beast invasion. In order to become stronger, he begins to explore the unknown world and gradually reveals the secret behind the invasion of the alien dimensions…

I’m not a RegressorChapter 265: Snowy Fields (5)
 779.6k
4.8/5(votes)
ActionAdventureFantasyHarem

One day, in front of my eyes appeared a silver-haired Goddess.

[Heaven-defying Star. The existence that goes against destiny. The one and only savior of a world that was destined to meet its end—]

What kind of bullsh*t is this woman spouting?

[You must be a regressor.]

“…What?”

No, I’m not.

I Can Recognize Everything, But the Information is WrongChapter 536 - 498: Meeting an Old Friend in a Foreign Land
 8.6k
4.5/5(votes)
EasternFantasyXianxia

[Beef buns: Can effectively replenish physical strength, enhance fitness, and are safe to eat.]Hungry Tain Lin looked at the cow dung in front of him and couldn't help but fall into contemplation.Is this cow dung or a beef bun?To eat, or not to eat? This is a question.

THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
 325
4.5/5(votes)
FantasyActionAdventureHarem

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.”