Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic - Chapter 686 - Charity Dinner for the Fire Worship

“Hey, wait! I'm not a god, I'm just a guy who loves trash!”Rhys loves trash. Trashy anime, trashy novels, trashy games, he can't get enough. Which was all well and good until one day, his passion for trash gets him mistaken as an actual trash god. Whisked away into another world, Rhys wakes up in a trash heap as a trash talent with trash skills and no chance of progression. Given his trashy start, it seems there's no hope for him.Or at least, there wouldn't be for a lesser man. But Rhys loves trash.There's only one path before him. Embrace the trash! Empower the trash! Dig the diamonds out from the trash! Polish the trash until it shines brighter than gold! If there's one thing Rhys is passionate about, it's trash. And even in another world, he isn't going to stop until he proves that trash shouldn't be overlooked!What to expect: Trash charactersTrash skillsTrash storyNumber go upCultivation-style systemFast-paced progression

The book he wrote wasn't some ordinary book, nor was he an ordinary person. He holds the ability to see the future unknowingly and writes it down as great stories.

Little did he know, he would wake up in a different body in a world where he finds out the characters in his book…A world of magic, swords and monsters.

'Wait, this isn't a world from my novel. It's a real world and the novel is just my prediction of some people just like the guardian said. So I will just enjoy the show as an audience and leave after the story ends. I have a whole new world to discover in front of me.'

But what awaits him was something he could never imagine. In front of the world, in front of the whole universe, his assumption was just a grind of sand. The truth of the world made him rethink his life and the life he lived back in another world.

Viktor North, the author, finds himself in the middle of the whole universe where he was nothing but an extra later in his life as he kept living. An extra who was abandoned by his mother, his brother who was an elemental guardian and also a demigod, his race and the God.

'But I prefer to sleep than going against these unwanted people and unwanted problems. I want to sleep. I just want to shut my eyes and sleep under my warm blanket, probably forever if it's possible.'

This is the story of an author, a grand magician, a guardian who somehow became a god and the only thing he could think of was sleep.

He is the definition of what a 'Shut-in' is.

……………………………………………………………

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After transmigrating to the Great Desolation world, he became Dijun.At first, he did not want to be this demon emperor, just wished to be a carefree innate sage. However, appointed by the Dao Ancestor Hongjun, he had no choice but to take on this heavy responsibility.As for the war between the Witches and Demons, Dijun is not interested at all, he only wants to lead the demon clan in building the Great Desolation, and win the favor of heaven and earth, earning virtues and fortune.And the Zhou Tian Star Array, was it created for battle? Dividing day and night, establishing the four seasons, transforming chaos into innate aura, benefiting the Great Desolation, this is the true purpose of the Zhou Tian Star Array.With virtues and fortune upon them, who dares to provoke the demon clan?Under Dijun’s leadership, the entire demon clan continually contributes their strength to the construction of the Great Desolation.

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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