Forge of Destiny - Threads 389-Making Good 2

My name is Charlemagne Theron, yes, that’s right, that’s the Theron you think of, and Ajan Lor’themar is my younger brother. Don’t call me Daqiang, or I guarantee you will be beaten to three quarters to death. As a reliable time traveler, I will tell you responsibly, I… “Charlemagne, what are you muttering, today is the day when my younger brother will inherit the position of Ranger General, you don’t want to be used by Cirvanas and Vereesa Hurry up when the arrow hits your nostril.” “…Okay, my dear Alleria, here we go.” When the two walked away holding hands, an imperceptible figure appeared on the spot. “Brother, I wish you a happy Shura field.” I am Charlemagne Theron, I have led the people to participate in the orc war, defeated the ancient gods and the second fool, I also fought against the Burning Legion, and I have made contributions to Azeroth , I bring salt for myself. (PS: Don’t call me Daqiang, unless you want to grow an arrow from a certain key part behind you.) Book Friends Q Group 257692874

- Description from novelbuddy

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

Darin was just a simple blacksmith. He wanted a quiet life, a steady job, and maybe enough money to fix the hole in his roof.But fate had other plans.Thanks to an unfortunate mix of coincidences, a ridiculous prophecy, and some very excitable villagers, Darin suddenly finds himself labeled as the reincarnation of an ancient, all-powerful Dark Lord. Now, knights want to slay him, cultists want to worship him, and political schemers want to manipulate him, all while he desperately tries to convince everyone that he is just some guy.With misunderstandings piling up faster than he can escape them, Darin must navigate a world that insists on making him its next great villain… whether he likes it or not.A comedy of mistaken identity, accidental power plays, and one very confused protagonist, I Was Mistaken for the Reincarnated Evil Overlord is a lighthearted fantasy adventure where every denial only makes things worse.

Dual cultivation and apocalypse—words that mix like oil and water. There's nothing charming about seducing feral women on the road.

However, when Kaze Lexicon, the emperor of the Immortal Plane, got transmigrated into the past, he refused to give up his debaucherous ways—apocalypse or otherwise.

Armed with the knowledge of the future and an encyclopedia of overpowered cultivation techniques, he immediately set forth to obtain resources and build a lavish settlement to live a comfortable life dual cultivating in the apocalypse.

However, while it's obscenely protected and powerful, he finds himself in another predicament. The cultivators farming humans for their war, and the desperate humans, become enemies far more dangerous than the zombies and monsters that afflict humanity.

Join Kaze as he rebuilds his reputation from a bullied weeb, obtains wealth, builds power, starts a faction, makes lemonade, trains his people, protects his past lovers, conquers settlements, and fights humans, monsters, and cultivators, all for the sake of two obscene goals: enjoying life and building an army of engineers to bring modern technology to the higher planes.