MTL - Warlord of Chaos - Chapter 555 Damn nickname

At Elysia's first meeting with the crown prince, her future fiance ended up punching him. In this way, she violated her first law of survival.

Elysia's three rules of survival - First, Stay away from the main couple of Adam and Eve and make sure they end up together. Second, never fall in love with anyone and keep yourself safe. Third, no matter what happens, make sure you are never caught in any act. Only then will Elysia be able to survive past her death on her 18th birthday.

Ever since her birth, Elysia Raffle knew a few secrets of this world. First, the world she had been born in was a book and Elysia was the villainess in that book. She was destined to be slain by Adam on her 18th birthday and the day of their marriage.

Elysia needed to keep a distance from the main couple to avoid that fate. But how did she do it when she was engaged with one of the main parties and the other refused to leave her alone?

Now Elysia needed to do everything possible in her power to ensure that her engagement with the crown prince was broken and the main couple ends up together.

But it was easier said than done.

The king of assassins was reborn, mastering both alchemy and poison. Sitting inside the space, there was a ghost that loved crying.

The world is made up of the five elements, and it could be divided into Yin and Yang.

Beneath the heavens, on the ancient divine center continent, billions of lives thrive in the prosperous era of the cultivation.

Across its vast lands, happiness, sadness, reunion, and separation played out in the long lives of those seeking immortalhood.

Light is always accompanied by darkness, and under the radiance of the heavens, there are silent shadows moving about…

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”