I Have 10 Training Avatars - Chapter 133 - I’m Just an Ordinary Ice Mage

A young man sat on a chair and looked out at the ocean. With one wisp of Spirit Qi, he could point anywhere on this vast and expansive world, pointing at any place that didn’t look right.

Someone once became the last one to wield a knife that could decapitate huge dragons and bathed in dragons’ blood. Someone once loved treating others to chicken soup, so he kept nine phoenixes in his backyard.

Someone once sat lazily on the top of mountains as his words flooded river banks, and his qi could hold a million soldiers back. Someone once moved mountains and shifted hills with just one brush, his paintings so captivating it could enchant immortals and deities.

That year, the warmth of spring made the flowers bloom. They were merely an ordinary butcher, a bookworm, a chicken farmer and a poor artist. This is the story of how a Low Level Martial World Continent was transformed into the Ultimate Fantasy Universe.

- Description from Qidian

What does it feel like to be hunted down by the whole just for being overpowered?___For centuries, the realms feared one thing, the birth of a child under the Blood Moon. A cursed child with the power to destroy everything.Every two hundred years, it happens. And every time, the realms unite to erase that child before their powers awaken.But this time, the Blood Moon didn’t rise. And yet, the child was born.Kaizen, 18 years old, was believed to be powerless, an ordinary hunter with no magic or magic core. What no one knew was that his abilities had been sealed since birth. Not just one, but all five elemental powers, water, fire, earth, ice, and shadow.The same power that once shattered the balance of the world.After a near-death encounter, the seal breaks. His powers begin to surface—unstable, dangerous, and impossible to ignore. Along with them comes a system that forces him to evolve and grow stronger.Now, Kaizen must hide the truth, survive among hunters, and face enemies far beyond anything he imagined. Because if the realms find out what he really is...They won’t hesitate to kill him.They promised this curse would never return.They were wrong.

Inexplicably, she had crossed over to the end of the 1970s and was thrown into the mountains. Fortunately, she is rescued by a handsome soldier. Only later does she discover that Brother Soldier is actually the unlucky male supporting role of a historical novel. He was used and deceived by the heroine in various ways and finally dumped on the grounds of the progressive new era not supporting arranged marriage.

Damn, will such a good Brother Soldier will still end up like that in the future? If the heroine doesn’t want him, then step aside and let me have a go.

But how will we live in a time that lacks modern food and clothing? Hey, I bring something different, now I can guide this male lead to be well-fed and make the heroine get mad.

- Description from Novelupdates

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.