Martial Peak - Chapter 2910 - Toxic Barrier

Veyne came from the life of sewer rats.The world saw him as a failure. He called it belief. Others called it stupidity. Either way, it was the only thing he had left.Even at rock bottom, Veyne never stopped believing in himself.Betrayed by his lover and brother, treated as a burden, and forced to slave endlessly in the game to chase his dream—he endured it all.Though late, his obsession was finally rewarded with an opportunity. But the sewer rat in him was too weak to hold onto it. He had fought the world and lost.Actions have consequences. And when he failed in the game, those consequences caught up to him, leading to his death.But the universe wasn’t done with him yet.Given a second chance, he returned to a time when the game had already been out for two years. This time, he rushed to obtain the Template Wilder class—the very class that led to his downfall.One of the game’s rarest hidden classes, the Wilder class, allowed him to switch into different forms based on the monster templates he possessed. An overpowered ability—but it came with a fatal catch.A hidden template forced him into the form of an ancient baby creature, one so cursed that players, monsters, and even NPCs would hunt him down. If he died in that form, his character would be permanently deleted.In his past life, he underestimated the class’s dangers. And the world tore him apart for it.This time, it wouldn’t be just hollow belief.This time, he’s not here to survive—he’s here to dominate.No emotional ties.No second chances.The entire game is his enemy, and he will crush anyone who stands in his way.He failed once. He suffered. He died. He was erased.Not this time.This is the beginning of his legend. The era of Veyne Draven.

The Priest of a nameless God, Kyle.Forsaken by the ones he once called his companions.

Birth rates are decreasing. Hope is vanishing. The world has gone gray.Humanity, drifting in quiet collapse, receives an email.Every person on Earth. Simultaneously.The Aegis Mandate.Disguised as a cosmic aptitude test, it triggers The Incident of Separation—a global psychic cataclysm that erases identities, wipes memories, and divides all survivors into three factions: Law, Neutral, and Chaos. Overnight, cities become battlegrounds. Apartments become dungeons. Ordinary people become monsters—or the ones who hunt them.Ragnar Vhagar was just a loner university student. Now, thanks to a system he didn’t ask for, he’s a newly minted Demon King, locked in a crumbling apartment with goblins under his sofa and a glowing soul crystal next to his frozen peas. His new job? Build a deadly domain, defend it from invading “Heroes,” and somehow level up fast enough to not die.Alongside him is Isabelle Thorne, a razor-sharp warrior of few words and one very sharp sword. Their reluctant alliance, born in blood and snark, evolves into trust—and maybe something dangerously close to affection—as they rise together through the layers of the game-like world they’re trapped in.With each conquered domain and defeated boss, Ragnar realizes the truth: the dungeons aren’t meant to crown a winner. They’re meant to break the players. The Law faction wants control. The Chaos faction craves destruction. But Ragnar? He wants something they’re all too afraid to say out loud:Freedom.In the ruins of Kanta’s ogre stronghold, Ragnar and his misfit warband take their biggest step yet—claiming a kingdom, unifying a fractured system, and preparing for what comes next. The Heroes are watching. The gods are stirring. The world is watching a war.And somewhere deep beneath it all... Ragnar is rewriting the rules.

Epic fantasy presence: Ashes Of The First Tyrant [AOTFT]Prologue – The Law of AuraThey say every soul burns.Some flare brightly and fade. Others smolder quietly for a lifetime.But a rare few, rare beyond reason ignite with such intensity that the world bends to them. These are not gods. Not yet.These are the Tyrants.And their aura is not a gift.It is a weight a burden.In this world, aura is everything.It is the breath behind a sword strike, the pressure behind a command, the silent will that can crush or inspire. Most are born with it. Few master it.But only one…only one in an ageawakens the Tyrant’s Spirit…the aura that dominates not by force, but by presence alone.