Way of the Devil - Chapter 25: Night Watch (1)

Dying in a tragic accident Marcus Ferrous gets transferred to a fantasy world of monsters and magic, except when he arrives contrary to what he expected he is now level one and a ghost. Left with nothing on a strange new world, Marcus will struggle with everything he has on his journey to get stronger and uncover the secrets of his new world.

Charlotte Dawson, 27, filed a divorce against her cheating and abusive husband after enduring the failing marriage for five years.“You think you can just walk away? After I marked you? You’re mine forever, Charlotte!” exclaimed Julian.“You are just my fake mate, Julian.”She had to run away from her lunatic ex-husband, and the only way to do that was to get marked by an Alpha.It never crossed in Charlotte’s mind that she would come to an Alpha who rejected her—Damon Sullivan, 38, who happened to be her ex-husband’s billionaire uncle.“You want me to renew our bond? That’s not an issue.” Damon warned her, “But once I mark you, I’ll never let you run away.”But why would Charlotte run away when the alpha spoiled her to death?Helping her get her fame again? Check.Giving her limitless money?! Check.Slapping her ex-husband? CheckSatisfying her in bed? Triple check!!!

“I can definitely become an immortal,” she said.He looked her up and down, sneered, “You can indeed become an immortal, a Lazy Immortal.”She breathed a sigh of relief, fully self-assured, “A Lazy Immortal is still an immortal.”He was speechless. Great, very powerful, who says a lazy person can't become an immortal~

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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