Talentless Extra Of The Legendary Hero Academy - Chapter 151: Users

I’ve entered a hidden route in a failed game.And now, I have to become a false prophet.There’s no other choice.Since it’s come to this, I’ll become the greatest false prophet on the continent.

A Consort seeks prosperity.A Shepherd cloaked in yellow wages war.A Prosthesis-wielder cries out for retribution.Shadows tremble in the depths, encompassed worlds obscuring the many dangerous secrets of history. Might they be unraveled, all ways of life would be threatened. But to climb higher requires risks, to seek the light requires a Gambit of Lifetimes.Only when one determines themselves capable of risking it all, can all prosper.

Lilac has lived a life of suffering. From being forced to disguise himself as a girl to survive, to being labeled cursed after failing to awaken his heavenly gifts that everyone else could, he is shunned by all.To add salt to his wound, before he turns 18, his father vanishes, and his uncle seizes the throne that should've rightfully been Lilac's as the eldest son. Before Lilac could successfully flee, he is caught and traded to the monsters beyond the kingdom—beasts so feared that no one who sees them returns.But instead of death, Lilac is claimed by Sloan.Born cursed, Sloan is a prince of the Enwulves, an extinct hybrid wolf species. Even though he is a prince, he has lived life as an outcast due to his curse that causes him to forcibly transform every full moon, thus losing his humanity. His life has been mapped out for him, but when he finds Lilac—battered, freezing, and terrified—something shifts. For the first time, his rage stills. It was just a glimpse, a scent, a tiny whimper of fright.And that was it.Humans are meant to be slaves. Enwulves are forbidden from claiming them. Keeping Lilac means war.But Sloan has never followed rules, and Lilac has never belonged—until now.~~~ | ~~~“Are you afraid of me, little human?” Sloan husked out, cold lips grazing my bleeding fingers before his lips parted slightly to release hot breath over them. I trembled, rooted in the spot with fright and unable to breathe.Was this a trick question? Of course I’m afraid of him! Everyone is! Who wouldn’t be? Slaves are never supposed to be in his presence, except they suddenly desire a quick demise. Am I supposed to respond honestly or lie?When cold lips closed around my finger, I gasped in shock, a rush of fright and dread engulfing me. He was gonna bite off my finger right now, wasn’t he? Just because my stupid brain couldn’t come up with a response? The rumors said he was a heartless psychopath, but I didn’t think it was actually true!However, a hot tongue swiped over my fingertips and I sucked in a sharp breath, exhaling shakily while my chest expanded and my brain tried to figure out what was happening, and why my fingers weren't bitten off yet— or why I’m still breathing in his presence.Next, cold, long fingers wrapped around my wrist and my hand was being tugged upward, then a nose was digging into my pulse point, and I almost fainted when cold lips dragged over the sensitive skin there. The sound of a deep inhale filled up my ear next.“Fuck. You smell so good.”Oh heavens.This was worse than I thought.Instead of killing me, was he planning to… eat me… literally???! What the fuck?

A boy that was imprisoned for millions of years has regained a mortal body.

He became a disciple of the declining Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect where its patriarch used to be his disciple. Now he will bring this sect back to its former glory.

This is his journey to reach the apex and take revenge on those who had imprisoned him.

This is his story of meeting old friends and making new companions.

This is his path of traversing the Nine Worlds and becoming the next ruler of the Heavens.

Several milennias have passed and the golden age of experts have passed. A master whose disciples once were the most exalted Immortals among the 9 worlds have all left him. With his mortal body, mortal physique and mortal life wheel. . . he shall sweep the 9 worlds and take what is rightfully his.