The Art of Chaotic Divinity - Chapter 783: Demon Cultists of the Blood God Cult

--WSA 2025 ENTRY--Neraxis saved the people and wiped out the monsters, but instead of cheers, he faced silence and a glowing blue text:[Task Failed Successfully!][Rating Generated: SSS-Rank]“The hell does that even mean?” he muttered, finding the situation a bit strange.Before he could process, the so-called heroes—who had hidden while he fought—emerged. He waited for gratitude, only to feel a dagger pierce his back.The only girl he loved stood behind him.She betrayed him.The crowd and heroes? They were staring at him with disdain and contempt.“You...” he groaned as a spear and sword headed for him, ending his life.But instead of dying, he was sent back to the past—specifically, to the first day of the academy, year 2367, 8 years before his death.However, many things had changed. One of the most significant was the sudden appearance of a Tower, a mysterious structure that had appeared across all the continents, granting power to those brave enough to contest its challenges.“Not again... With this chance I will end you all” Neraxis vowed to himself, embarking on his path of revenge, while also trying to give his life new meaning.

«Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only Light can do that» the Goddess Amaltheia said as she held William in her loving embrace.

«Hate cannot drive out hate, only Love can do that.»

In order to help his little brothers and sisters at the orphanage, and save the person he loves, William decided to make the ultimate sacrifice.

This selfless act caught the eyes of the Gods which allowed William to have an opportunity to enter the Cycle of Reincarnation with their blessings. Together with his Mama Ella, and a herd of goats, William embarks on a new journey to find the meaning of happiness in his new life.

In a world of Swords and Magic, where adventures roam wild and free, a new legend is about to begin!

[Disclaimer: You might get addicted reading this story.]

Rakna was not normal. No, unmistakably not.

Whether it was his appearance, his personality, his abilities, his identity, nothing about him had ever been banal. Was it his choice?

No. He was merely but a tormented soul doing its utmost to live the life it had learned to never enjoy.

Would being picked by a glorified universal abductor calling itself a system bring something out of him?

Would he finally learn to breathe in the pool of blood that suffocated him? The Harvester does not sow, he only collects.

All he has ever known to feel was loss and the only thing he can do is take.

He will devour their hearts and drink their blood if it is what it takes.