Dungeon Predator - Chapter 577. Please Give me a Demon Sword!

Why did going to the supermarket to buy vegetables end up transporting her to the 1970s, where she became the aunt her mother despised the most? She initially thought living in the 1970s would mean experiencing dire poverty, struggling from meal to meal. Fortunately, her grandfather was a devoted revolutionary, her grandmother adored her granddaughters, her father was indulgently affectionate towards his daughters, and her mother was harsh in words but soft in heart. Her uncles and aunt were exceedingly kind to her, and she even had a wealthy mother abroad and a father from a family with deep cultural roots. Wasn't this the prelude to living like a princess? With the advantages of the right time, place, and people, why did her life as the aunt still turn out so miserably in her previous life?A newcomer to rural 1972, Tian Sisi thought destiny wanted her to strive and be inspired, but in reality, it directed her towards a path of happiness and well-being. This story features a touch of levity, inspiration, struggle, and freshness. The female protagonist is no pushover.The new novel 'Spoilt Wife in the Sixties' has started, featuring a sweet romance tale, one-on-one.

In the Bog forest, dangers were in every corner. During the nighttime, the thick white mist blinded the eyes and the chilling air froze you to the bones. Once morning arrived, thousands of ferocious mutated animals as big as the hills roamed for prey.

Among them lived the weakest species on the Meer Continent, the Monster Species. They only survived with their tough bodies in the midst of a world ruled by magic power.

To the mage, they were simply pests that were easy to be exterminated.

To avoid the eyes of the mana rulers, they had to hide in secluded places; in the caves shrouded by shadows or in the dark underground where filth was brimming. But, continuing to hide was not a solution.

When warbeasts sharpened their claws, elves polished their weapons, humans feasted on their greed, and demons searched for prey with their thirst, an orc named Moku was born.

Moku was a world MMA champion who transmigrated into the body of an orc in the magical world. He had always dreamed of possessing superpowers; being able to jump beyond the clouds, shattering the mountains in one hit and running faster than sound.

Moku dreamed of having these powers. He used rituals, magical lore, and all the things that were considered myths and fairy tales in his home world to make him and his tribe stronger.

A promise was deeply engraved by him. One day, he would bring the war to those who underestimated them.

“I saw with my own eyes that they used the finest, rustproof refined steel to make utensils and cans, filling them with just a little food, then casually throwing them away after eating.”“I saw with my own eyes that they used giant beasts as tall as mountains to devour soil and rocks, digging out underground cities, just to park their steel carriages beneath the surface.”“I saw with my own eyes that they fed glowing ores into an everlasting stellar furnace, unleashing a radiance brighter than the sun.”“I saw with my own eyes all those indescribable things.”“Their iron birds covered the sky, their steel ships filled the ocean, their war machines tore the earth asunder, and their gods walked upon the world.”“You must think I’m mad.”“But it doesn’t matter.”“It has already seen you.”——————Oil is Its blood.Thick smoke is Its breath.Ore and steel are Its food.The countless cargo ships in the harbors are Its myriad offspring.The place of origin stamped in the corner is Its silent mockery.They claim they are mere mortals.Child, you’d best not argue.You must understand:Their technology is beyond comprehension.Their production capacity is unimaginable.A mere glimpse of their creations will drive you insane.Their morale surpasses even the most fanatical worshippers of dark gods.How will you stop them?With your sword, child? Or your flesh and blood?You should be grateful that they still consider themselves mortals.——————“I’ve finished building my factory, and now you’re telling me this world runs on idealism?!”“Wait, then what the hell did I just create?”

A necromancer and a saint blessed by the Constellations. That’s me.