Rise of The Anti God - Chapter 425: A Way To Save Her Life

After transmigrating to Hong Huang and becoming a minor shaman in Hou Tu’s tribe, Chu Xuan shocked everyone by repeatedly offering poisonous plans in order to avoid becoming Cannon Fodder in the Great Calamity.Who would have thought? The poisonous plans were incredibly effective.The Demon Clan established the Heavenly Court and united countless races?Chu Xuan: Establish the path of the Heavenly Tribulation and share the power with the Heavenly Court. From now on, all beings must undergo the tribulation!In Zixiao Palace, it was said that those without Primordial Spirits couldn’t listen to the Dao?Chu Xuan: Create the path of the Heavenly Demon as a tribulation for Primordial Spirits. All who possess one will suffer!During the war between the Wu race and Demons, countless souls were left with no place to go, and the Calamity Qi of heaven and earth ran rampant. Who asked Hou Tu to reincarnate?Chu Xuan: If you don’t work hard in your cultivation, you’ll end up as brothers in the Ten Thousand Souls Banner.…Chu Xuan: I have a plan that can completely resolve the Great Calamity of the Demons and Wu races!Hou Tu: Chu Xuan, calm down first. Things haven’t come to that point yet.

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.”

It began with an accident, or maybe a miracle is a better term. Three souls dying by different strokes. One died in glory and blood; One died, betrayed but glad it was over; One died poor and alone. Then on the child’s fifth birthday, the three sleeping souls awakened. Three souls, one body, two desires, and containing all the powers each had in their last life. Were they destined for greatness? No. But when the past comes to haunt them, their home taken away, they have to make a decision… May it be as simple as a majority vote.“Let’s squash them!”“...can we just run away?“Were you never taught to aim for the eyes?”

I didn’t know this was a world inside a game. And I didn’t know my master was a mid-boss. “No way… wasn’t she supposed to self-destruct because of her personality?!” …I’m sorry.