Guild Wars - Chapter 1273: War God Frederick

Traveling through the world of One Piece, Ron, who became Kuina’s fiancé, awakened the god-level theft system.

In order to become stronger and change the fate of Kuina’s death, and to survive in this dangerous era of great pirates, Ron started to steal Sauron’s top kendo talent.

And that’s just the beginning.

In order to become stronger, Ron embarked on a journey to steal the talents of the world’s strongest.

“Ding! Congratulations to the host for stealing Karp’s physical talent!”

“Ding! Congratulations to the host for stealing Nika’s talent!”

“Ding! Congratulations to the host for stealing Shanks’ domineering talent!”

“Ding! Congratulations to the host…”

- Description from novelbuddy

# 1V1 # NOBLELADYThe female general has transmigrated to the future. When she opened her eyes, she saw someone snatching a child. She reached out without much thought, but who would have thought the little girl would hug her and say, “Mom, don’t throw me and Brother away!” Since the female general couldn’t go back, she raised her children and educated them. She beat up scumbags and saved men, and achieved another brilliant life. In the face of outrageous people, she was an ice queen. Grandma, sister-in-law, do any of you deserve my time? Faced with her children, it was like a spring breeze in summer. “Little Xing, you’re so smart! Shi Tou, you’re also a good baby!” In the face of men, she was indifferent. “Leave if you want to. You have legs, right? Go on then, I won’t walk you out.” She was a woman with thousands of faces. Even in another world, she was still the most dazzling one.

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.”

The eldest son of the assassin aristocrat Tuatha Dé.

The skill, experience, knowledge of the previous life, magic, all of which grows his power as an assassin.

Excellent assassins pass through. He was usually admired as the ideal lord, and behind it wielded a blade as an assassin aristocrat.