MTL - The Pirate Princess Becomes King - Chapter 526 Who is in favor? Who is against it?

Lu Xuanji transmigrated to the Zifu Realm and realized that cultivation was an arduous journey.Due to the monopoly of resources, the strong grew stronger while the weak turned weaker. His clan was in a difficult situation. As he munched on cold, leftover food, he thought of the pathetic situation that his clan was in.Thankfully, his cellphone transmigrated along with him.The File Manager app, which could store a large amount of information, was used to store 10,000 scrolls of martial arts techniques.The Fortune Reading app, which could analyze information input, was used to deduce future events and break down martial arts techniques.Google Maps, which showed panoramic views of different terrains, was used to locate enemies and identify spots for minerals.The Phone Banking service allowed him to exchange currency for spiritual stones.The mobile game, Orchard, allowed him to get spiritual fruits by planting trees.As such, Lu Xuanji led his clan to rise up to the pinnacle of life.

The Blood Warrior of the Ungpae Association, who created a sea of blood wherever he went, made the world of the Forces of Evil possible.

The Nine Great Sects and the Six Great Clans joined forces to fight him, but were unable to stop him.

Four Great Warriors, who were Murim’s last hope, appeared.

The four of them fought against the Blood Warrior and eventually defeated him at Mount Song.

The time has come for the legacy of the Blood Warrior to rise once again.

Among the gods of the heavens, there was a famous laughing stock known throughout the three realms.Legend has it that eight hundred years ago, there was an ancient country within the Central Plains called Xian Le nation.The ancient nation of Xian Le had vast territory, abundant resources and content citizens. The country had four treasures: delicate beauties aplenty, thriving arts & literature, treasures of gold and jewels and last but not least, their renown Royal Highness the Crown Prince.This person, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince....you could say.... was a strange man.The Emperor and Empress considered him to be the apple of their eyes. They doted on him immensely and would often proudly proclaim: “In the future, my son will surely become a wise monarch, leaving a reputable impression for generations to come .”Yet, in the regards of what came with royalty, of riches, power and honor, the Crown Prince had no interest.What he was interested in, quoting the very words he often said to himself, was——“I want to save the common folks!”The young prince cultivated in earnest. During this time, two short stories became widely circulated. .The first story occurred when he was seventeen years old.That year, the nation of Xian Le held a magnificent Offering to the Gods parade.Although this tradition had already been abandoned for numerous centuries, through surviving ancient texts and verbal stories, one could imagine the grandeur of the event..Offering to the Gods day, Martial God Main Street.Both sides of the Main Street were overflowing with a sea of people. The aristocrats were seated on top of high buildings as they exchanged friendly chatter; while the imperial guards cleared the way with their impressive armours clinking. Young girls danced gracefully as their snow-white hands scattered flower petals like rain, filling the sky as far as the eye could see. It made people question whether the dancing maidens were more beautiful or the flowers themselves. Melodious notes sounded from within golden carriages and floated throughout the whole Imperial City. Behind honorable guards, sixteen white horses with golden bridles walked side-by-side as they pulled forward a magnificent platform.Located on top of the tall, magnificent platform was the focus of everyone’s attention, there stood the martial artist to perform a show to please the Gods.During the festive heavenly parade, the martial artist would adorn a golden mask, don splendid garments and wield a sword in one hand. He would perform the role of the first military deity in a millennium to have subdued demonic beasts——Martial God Heavenly Emperor Jun Wu.Being selected as the martial artist to perform such a show could be considered equivalent as to receiving the utmost honour, and thus the selection criteria was extremely strict. This year, the one who was chosen was none other than His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. The entire nation was convinced that he would surely be able to become the most marvellous martial artist to perform such a performance since the beginning of time.However, on that day, something unexpected occurred.During that time, the martial god on the magnificent stage was just about to land a killing blow on a demon.This was the most exciting scene, and thus the people on both sides of the Main Street were fired up with passion. The people on the city walls were also becoming more rowdy as they started outdoing each other in sticking their heads out to see, both struggling and shoving.Right at this moment, a young child fell from the top of the city gate tower.

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.”