Cultivating by picking up attri - Chapter 225 - : Chapter 141:1 am the Sword Immortal_2

The Chaplian has returned ! Both to take revenge and to repay kindness !!

His wife and daughter who has suffered all these years became the most blessed women on Earth !!

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After his father was murdered and his peaceful village massacred, Sol woke up to find a mysterious old man standing over him claiming to be his new Master.

“You want revenge, don’t you? I’ll train you so you have the strength to take it, but you have to become my one and only disciple first!”

Sol’s peaceful village life training with his father ended for his journey of revenge and hatred to begin. However, on this journey, he would meet people who slowly changed him; who would go on to become his friends and loved ones.

Sol’s desire for revenge faded to be replaced by something else, a desire much stronger than before.

“I no longer seek revenge. What I now seek is to create a world where no one has to experience pain and suffering. And the only way to do that… is to rule!”

However, there was a catch. Would the powerful hegemonies who rule the world and cause chaos with their conflicts allow this boy to usurp their long reign?

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any events, places, or names are all from the author's imagination and Google. If someone in any way assumes this book to be real or based on real events, I strongly suggest you send me Golden Tickets for doing such a good job.

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I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.

Ruins stretched across the landscape in the apocalypse after the nuclear war.