Birth Of The Crafts-God - Chapter 327 - 1V1

Song Yang was a Mercenary King in his previous life, killed by a stray bullet. He transmigrated to a world of cultivation, where the ability to control clouds and move mountains is commonplace.In this life, after taking over the body of a prince who had lost everything, he awakened a system that granted him a legion of thousands of cultivators in the Saint Realm from the start, and thus his story began.Creating a Shura Palace that made the whole continent tremble as soon as it heard his name.Be it a Saint from a Holy Land, an Emperor from a Powerful Empire? An ancestor from a powerful family?No matter who it is, as long as they pay the corresponding price, Shura Palace can kill.

[‘Lightning Magic Primer’ has been consumed. Your understanding is very high.]

[The 2nd Circle magic ‘Lightning Bolt’ has been acquired.]

The unprecedented magician who will eat all the magic books of the world has appeared.

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All the experts were defeated, I want both beauty and wealth! The Dragon King returns to the city, bringing an end to peace! This is the legendary tale of a cultivation fiend.

Before Wufu was reborn, she had no idea there was such a thing as rebirth. Only after her rebirth did she realize Heaven must have thought her previous life was too smooth, so it sent her to suffer in this ancient land where morality, decency, and the Female Precepts were held in high esteem, pitiful indeed! From being a master jade carver to having her soul transmigrate into a farm girl with a wretched background, she was bullied and humiliated. Even the bun-selling mother advised her that forbearance is gold? Bullshit! She could endure, but her other identity absolutely could not—robbers, swept away; insults to her mother, you're crippled... Wufu has a saying, for every insult and humiliation, I will repay a hundredfold. But what's with this one? He doesn't bully her; he only wants to sleep with her? And he even dares... to mount her? Well, a lord can endure, but Wufu cannot. Mount him back, life or death, a hundred years, neither owes the other anything!