High School of Demon Hunting - Chapter 1641: After modification - 385 After the Thunder

In the age of Universal Awakening on the Azure Sphere, a myriad of races and gods coexist.

Devils, dark gods, and monsters descend upon the mortal realm, only to be met by the Awakened.

Howard, during his Awakening Ritual, discovers dual talents— F-rank Mana Recovery, and the supreme talent: Supreme Synthesis.

He keeps a low profile, hiding as a 'common magus.'

Through countless acts of synthesis, he forges supreme artifacts, supreme skills, and supreme classes!

Fireball synthesis... Ding! Synthesis successful, attaining D-rank skill— Fire Serpent!

Fire Serpent synthesis... Ding! Synthesis successful, attaining B-rank skill— Fire Python!

Fire Python synthesis... Ding! Synthesis successful, attaining S-rank skill— Dragonfire!

When devils invade and dark gods descend, they are left slack-jawed by the Azure Sphere before them.

“No, this is a trap... a trap disguised as a mere cupcake!”

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Being abandoned by his very own blood, the world stripped him of everything, his glory, his weapon, his beloved and even his name was taken away. He tried to reclaim what were rightfully his but the people already treated him as an outcast.With nothing left to do, he strode towards the place of no return and as he reached the deepest part by accident, he found a sealed casket with an unusual question engraved on its lid.'If the world's destruction would be put in the palm of your hand, how would it end?'Thousands of choices, hundreds of possibilities, and tens of answers, yet just one of these was certain.“I'll carve it with my enemies' blood,” he uttered underneath the moonless sky.On his hand was a blade made of glass, dripping with a crimson, sticky substance. In an era where war was an everyday occurrence and death was nothing but a mere consequence of being weak, his journey towards the labyrinth of revenge had begun.- - - - -Read at least six chapters and please be prepared to crave the rest. Enjoy Reading!

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.

To rise from defeat; to revive amidst the dissipation.