Gate of God - Chapter 1110 - The Final Battle!

[Extreme cool article] + [Offensive and defensive all-round] + [European Cup] + [World Cup] + [No National Football] + [Golden Globe Commend]

“Blonde again this time.” It’s already the third time being possessed. The third time with blonde hair. At this point, I can’t help but doubt the taste of the deity I serve, Pebula. Upon waking up, the detailed personal information of the third body, Siora, is as follows: [Siora Velvet. 20 years old. Parents died in a fire. Currently under the protection of Count Bonetti. Remaining assets: 0g. Scheduled to be evicted in 3 days] It’s clearly a worse situation than the previous two possessions! *** As the only priestess, cleric, saint, and pope of the ancient deity Pebula, one day she received a book. The book titled described that the world would soon be destroyed by the villain ‘Cruello White Desert.’ “Ancient deity Pebula, please perform a miracle.” As soon as she finished reading the book, Pebula, who had given the revelation to ‘Reform the villain!’ immediately threw her into the body of the villain’s childhood fiancée. First attempt: Died after being poisoned instead of the villain, thus failing. Second attempt: Possessed the body of the villain’s maid but also failed, as she was too focused on doing nothing but dying. Finally, the third attempt. Waking up in the body of Siora, who had no connection with the villain, she strives to make a connection with Cruello. However, there is only one year left before Cruello destroys the world… Moreover, after two failed attempts, the once innocent child has already grown into a wicked villain! Like Cinderella returning home at midnight, Siora wants to save Cruello and escape her duties. Will she be able to fulfill her role and break free from her fate? #Overpowered #MultiplePossessions #PoliticalMarriage #Revenge #ComingOfAge #Redemption #SaintOfAncientDeity #ReformTheVillain

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

Oliver Patrick, the Greatest General in Stormfront's history has a secret - a secret not many know. They think that his Iron WIll was built overnight. They know not the path of suffering he walked, as the slave Beam, to reach his destiny as King, and then Emperor.This is that story. A true story, of progress, struggle, hardship and strength. A story of greatness achieved without a system. A story of how one unknown boy's struggle transformed a continent forever.//ExtractThe arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentary lapse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered. With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his blade into its throat.It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of its comrades dealt with so easily in quick succession. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance. He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into place as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone – though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.Slowly, with his meat shield in place, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a glance with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.“Stay,” a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in place. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands. It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.