Fredrinn Firecrown: The Weakest Villain - Chapter 42: Alice’s Spirit Root

“Welcome to the Cosmos of Madness!”

Said a man with long red hair and piercing golden eyes as he descended from the stars.

“You have been chosen for a great purpose! Task! Mission! Destiny!”

He shouted dramatically as countless worlds heard his every word, from the lowest peasants to the mighty entities in the lofty palaces in the Higher Dimension.

“All of you accept your destiny as a sacrifice to Daemon Sultan, Blind Idiot God, Primordial Demiurge, Azathoth!”

And then Apocalypse descended.

***

Follow the journey of self-named Samiel Zentaur, a half-mad worshipper of the Outer Gods, on the Path of Transcendence and in his path to find himself.

Sword Saint Ji Yuan has just breakthrough to the lofty seventh realm saint level after a period of 100 years. When he returns to his celestial clan where he was once the Sword Saint, he has found out that many things have changed.

The worst thing had happened to him; he had lost his beautiful beard and in the Desolate Celestial Fraternity, a beardless cultivator is to be scorned and despised!

This is actually a xianxia romance story about an unromantic cultivator who likes his beard and the romantic leading maidens who all hates his beard.

There are a total of seven celestial levels in order to cultivate as a celestial cultivator; Practitioner, Master Practitioner, Enlighten Celestial, Immortal Celestial, Golden Celestial, Golden Supremacy and Sacred Saint.

The outbreak of an unknown virus infection has turned the city of Hanghai into a living hell. The people infected have turned into scary zombies. Three months ago, Qin An’s wife divorced him and told him that the virus was about to spread and that Hanghai city was about to become a quarantine area, leaving him with a pile of supplies. Three months later, he has slowly healed his wounds from the divorce, and now he’s thinking about how to live.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.