My Identity Becomes Increasingly Abnormal - Chapter 13 – Take revenge and settle a score

Oliver Patrick, the Greatest General in Stormfront's history has a secret - a secret not many know. They think that his Iron WIll was built overnight. They know not the path of suffering he walked, as the slave Beam, to reach his destiny as King, and then Emperor.This is that story. A true story, of progress, struggle, hardship and strength. A story of greatness achieved without a system. A story of how one unknown boy's struggle transformed a continent forever.//ExtractThe arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentary lapse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered. With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his blade into its throat.It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of its comrades dealt with so easily in quick succession. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance. He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into place as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone – though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.Slowly, with his meat shield in place, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a glance with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.“Stay,” a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in place. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands. It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.

Laviore Bailey—the ‘fake saintess’ who banished the innocent princess and stirred up bad blood to wage war.

She’s the villainess with a façade of a saintess.

“I love you. So just shut your mouth and die. Okay?”

But the moment her trusted lover chose her as a sacrifice to the demon, and she realized her father was behind the plan, she killed herself by swallowing poison.

It hurt. It was so painful that she could not even scream. But it was fine. Because she knew this was not the end.

“I will save you this time.”

Then, she came back for her second life. She was determined to rescue those who were unlucky because of her and restored her life back.

“You do whatever you want for the man in your dream.”

Demian said with a rough smile.

“I’ll also protect you the way I want to.”

Before his gruesome death, Gene Conti was one of the greatest icons of the 1960s. But after spending half a century in Hell, only gambling and the suffering of others excite him.Fortunately for him, his days of boredom are over. Having served his sentence, he finds himself in the body of a young man in the modern era.Now freed, Gene wishes to continue what he missed the most as a dead man: acting.Once again, he aspires to be an actor admired the world over.But will the angels and demons leave him alone? Will his bold attitude clash with the sensitive modern era? Or will the actor from Hell surrender to his lust for chaos and violence?

An Immortal does not differentiate between good and evil, nor do they care about the distinction between black and white. They do not ask what is right or wrong, and consider all living things as dogs. In spite of everything, Immortals pursue the Dao with bitter resolve.

Any being who disturbs my Dao, good or evil, will be forced to meet their karma, reduced to nothing more than ashes.

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