There Will Always Be Protagonists With Delusions of Starting a Harem - Chapter 89

This is a story of the flesh pushing everything.

In the Great Ye Dynasty, darkness descends, full of evil spirits and ghosts, killing invisible.

In the face of demons and evils, ordinary people can only shiver, curl up in the corner, and wait for their lives to come to an end.

Jiang Dao came through, carrying a martial arts modification system, and any martial arts can be modified infinitely as long as he glances at it.

The mad magic stick method, the eagle claw iron cloth shirt, the poisonous sand palm, the violent ape magic… are all revised to the realm of a thousand years later.

Facing the evil spirits, Jiang Dao had a burly body, muscles all over his body, and his eyes were like electricity.

“Evil spirits? Who said martial arts can’t kill evil spirits?”

- Description from novelbuddy

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.

[Warning: Mature content R-18 ]My tags: Smart Mc - Harem - Milf Hunter- Op Mc - Cold and cunning Mc - edgy-Op-Mc, NO YURI, smut- romance-massacre.As flames scorched the land and blood painted the soil, a lone figure stood atop a mountain of fallen demigods and chosen apostles, his blade, a masterpiece of folded steel, dripping with the blood of those who dared to invade. The gods had taken everything: his clan, his love, leaving him with nothing but wrath. They had made one critical mistake, however, they had crossed into Makaiyama (魔界山), the sacred mountain of Ryukoku’s most feared legend: the Heavenly Demon.Beyond the veil of space and time, celestial beings gazed in shock. “Impossible…” one god whispered, watching as the Heavenly Demon, armed with nothing but raw skill and a dark aura, felled three divine kin. Rage flared across their ranks as they saw their immortal kin fall to mere mortal swordsmanship, untainted by magic.Even as the Heavenly Demon staggered, weapons lodged deep into his body, he fixed his gaze forward, crimson eyes blazing with defiance. His obsidian katana, blood-soaked, pierced the peak of Makaiyama like a stake driven into the heart of heaven itself. His voice echoed in the darkness between life and death, and there, in the chasm of despair, a metallic whisper resonated:“[Project God Executioner has been activated.]”“[Accept?]” the voice asked.With a heart ablaze, he swore vengeance. He would rise, not as a puppet, but as the gods' executioner.

The country girl, Emily, was an orphan. She survived off the scraps that she could find from families around her. Every one of them despised her.

One day, a fairy-like little brother came to the city and brought her home.

At first, Emily wasn’t popular in other people’s homes, but she quickly awakened her god-tier learning talent. She could learn pretty much anything and everything in an instant.

Soon, Emily was regarded as a child prodigy. She was proficient in all sorts of arts, including zither, chess, and calligraphy, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

The elders and older brothers who didn’t really like her in the past were all captivated by her and spoilt her like a little fairy.

Every day, her grandparents, parents, uncles, aunties, and brothers fought to pamper her.

Grandpa said, “Baby, can you help Grandpa take a look at this painting?

Grandpa liked to collect oil paintings, but his deteriorating eyesight couldn’t discern good paintings from bad ones, and he kept getting tricked by sellers . So he had to consult the seven-year-old Emily because paintings that passed through Emily’s hands were never wrong.

Her father pleaded, “Baby, help me. The chairman of the Gu Site Corporation wants to get a calligraphy painting from you. This will determine whether my company can land a deal with them!”

Her brothers pleaded. “Baby, are you busy today? When are you going to visit your brother’s school? I promised the principal that I would bring you there. You can’t go back on your word.”