MTL - Realms In The Firmament - Chapter 12 Lifting a rock and licking your own feet...

Aren't you tired of the typical cultivation story, where an isekai'd person comes into the world and becomes a brutal or selfish person? I know I am. So instead of being fully changed by the world, I want this protagonist to stick to their beliefs and help to change the world (and people) for the better. There will still be main character development and tests of those beliefs, but I want them to maintain that aspect.

Brief Synopsis:

American is thrown into a typical Xuanhuan cultivation world where the masses of the people are typically sacrificed for the abilities of the few. This is meant to be an alternate take on how protagonists approach these worlds. Main character comes into the world w/ scanning, healing, and monster taming abilities.

The release schedule will begin on Dec 1st. The schedule is 2 chapters/week (Tue & Fri) at 11pm. Please like, comment, and follow, as that helps me to gauge interest in the series.

Final note: I notice that many cultivation novels treat abuse or sexual assault as a throwaway tool to set a stage. I think the way it is normally done is both lazy and a disrespectful to victims. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve the way I've done it in this series, please let me know.

I want to do this the right way.

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Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

There is a very strange restaurant in the City of Sin.

Elves and dwarves must share a table, orcs are strangely well behaved, dragons are only welcomed on the small square in front of the restaurant, and the demons must bring their own stool.

This strange restaurant with their strange rules continuous to attract a long line of customers.

“This place serves the best food! The chef of this restaurant is a genius!” Some of the guests in the restaurant left glowing reviews. But these guests have a word of warning for other guests, “No matter what you do, never, never attempt to kidnap the boss or try to ‘eat and run’. You will die.”

A cute little girl stood near the door, and demanded in her tiny voice, “You have eaten the food, now pay up, or I will beat you to death.” The five-meter tall dragon suddenly felt a chill running up its spine.

This book is also known as “I Eat Soul Beasts Raw”, “I’m Really Not Twin Martial Souls”, “Suck! The Blue Silver Emperor smells so good” “Tang San, I’m really sorry! “” Tang San, this is how the blue silver grass is used! “…

Each soul master level can only absorb one soul ring?

Find an ultra-small soul beast, can it still run if it eats the soul ring directly?

Mo Bai, who has a modern mindset, never thought that he would become a foodie one day.

But… really fragrant, especially the blue silver grass guarded by Tang Hao, really fragrant!

There is no twin martial soul, and there is no need for a master to teach.

The hunting of soul rings does not depend on the age, let alone the accompanying soul skills, but only on what kind of evolution the absorbed soul ring can bring to the martial soul itself!

Mo Bai, who also awakened the blue silver grass spirit, told Tang San with the facts, the blue silver grass spirit is not what you use!

ps: There is already a finished copy of the boutique Douluo “The Douluo from Blowing Up the Soul Ring”

Friendly reminder: This book is not an opening flow, and it is not the beginning to eat the Blue Silver Emperor!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”