Azimuth: The Elden Throne (New Version) - Chapter 235 What happened to me?

Every human on Earth was transformed into a summoned monster and was summoned to another world.

Fate and destiny; no one can foreshadow the terrifying challenges on the road to the Pure Land. Instead, one may unearth the evil within the road of light towards paradise.

A King’s Holy Sword, bringing light to the darkness,

An unyielding soul, igniting the fiery hope of the world,

As his soul awakens, the youth fiercely battles the gods of darkness and evil,

As the surging dark clouds gushed out like a phantom, their conflict swept the world like raging tide!

The clash of darkness and light, a massive war on the verge of exploding,

The decisive battle of gods and deities rewrite the creation of the world into one destructive epic!

- Description from Novelupdates

Lucian Bowcott only wanted a quiet life. He met up with old friends, made a wish, and died after one drink.Now, he awakens inside a coffin—summoned by the Half-Dead Queen of Atraeum and surrounded by restless souls.Armed with the Death Grimoire, Lucian must embalm corpses, repair brittle bones, and help the dead find peace… before something ancient finds him.As his powers grow, so do the whispers in the dark. If he wants to survive, Lucian must unravel the Queen’s grief, discover why a mortician hasn’t been summoned in over a century, and confront the entities haunting his every step.A/N: It doesn't deal with dungeons, Lucian's system is a magical book, and he slowly unlocks powers to help him with his next assignment. He travels to different places around Atraeum, and in the future, another kingdom.This is a character-driven gothic isekai about an introvert learning that sometimes, peace is more than just embalming a body and preparing it for a funeral. He's more of an undead therapist now

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.”