Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic - Chapter 593 - : Standing Coin

This thought had grown deep in William’s mind!

Abandoned by Fate, but Chosen by Chaos.A world where magic reigns supreme and the mightiest wizards stand at the apex.A world where one’s mana affinity, if one even had it, determines one’s status in society, whether one could soar through the skies like a dragon or remain grounded, scraping by like rats or chickens.This was the world Hal Fennec was born into.Raised in the poverty of a border village, Hal had one wish: to give his mother a better life, one free from the constant fear of beast attacks and invasions by the Fellkin.But fate seemed to be playing a cruel joke.Despite being the brightest and most confident among his peers since childhood, Hal turned out to be barely qualified to become a wizard.His natural talent, contrary to his expectations, was nowhere near enough to fulfill even his modest dream of a decent city life.But then, just when his final hope was snuffed out and the future seemed gray and bleak, a twist of fate—or more fittingly Chaos—granted him a system that would turn everything around.

An experiment gone wrong, or possibly right? A Nascent Kaleidoscope opens his eyes.

A reincarnated Zelretch story. Previous Fate-series knowledge recommended.

A Fate/DxD/Multi Crossover.

In Light of the horrendous new update, know that I do cross post on Fan Fiction dot Net.

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The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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