The Mech Touch (Web Novel) - Chapter 4833 Deserved Reward

A thousand years ago, the world shattered.Mana surged into existence, rewriting reality itself. Dungeons tore through the land, birthing monstrous horrors, while beasts mutated under the influence of Primordial Ki, evolving into unstoppable apex predators. Humanity was on the brink of annihilation—until the Awakened emerged, wielding supernatural power to defy extinction.Yet, in this brutal new world, strength reigns supreme, and weakness is a death sentence.Amidst it all, Azvoid Larkson—a nameless figure among the countless struggling to survive—awakens a power beyond reason. A power tied to ancient, forgotten dragons—beasts feared even by the strongest Awakened.With each battle, he ascends. With every dragon he tames, his legend grows.In a world where only the strong thrive, how far can one man rise?

Fate and destiny; no one can foreshadow the terrifying challenges on the road to the Pure Land. Instead, one may unearth the evil within the road of light towards paradise.

A King’s Holy Sword, bringing light to the darkness,

An unyielding soul, igniting the fiery hope of the world,

As his soul awakens, the youth fiercely battles the gods of darkness and evil,

As the surging dark clouds gushed out like a phantom, their conflict swept the world like raging tide!

The clash of darkness and light, a massive war on the verge of exploding,

The decisive battle of gods and deities rewrite the creation of the world into one destructive epic!

- Description from Novelupdates

One day, the majority of humanity had a collective thought.

‘I wish the world would just collapse.’

And then, that wish came true.

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.”