Civilization: Beyond Two Worlds - Chapter 3

Ten thousand years after Carlotta's accidental fall, pure humans have long been extinct, genetically evolved orcs dominate the world, they are valiant and warlike, possessing near-perfectly strong physiques and extraordinary fighting strength, the only drawback is that females are scarce. The only drawback is the scarcity of females. Male orcs will burst into heat when they reach adulthood, and will go crazy if there is no female to appease them. When the only pure human girl with sss-level guidance ability comes to the future of the orc world, the whole continent goes crazy. When learned that she was born pregnant body, can for the heir of the king beast breeding top pure blood offspring, all parties big brother is scrambling to pander to snatch broken skull, just to be able to get the beauty favor, and her to make baby to raise pups ......

If an ancient scholar searches through the mists of history, he or she will find such an existence:Pope of the night,Angel of the Creator,The hidden emperor of the empire,…He is also the perfect mentor;Wanmen’s guidance,The original source of pain...No one knows where he came from, only that he was born with knowledge and has been with him for years.Let us chant his honorable name together:Spirit of truth, pure man, master of dreams, supreme beyond all eternity

Disclaimer: don’t own Minecraft or Percy Jackson

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.”