MTL - Fairy Tale - Chapter 561 incredible

“Success is a shallow foundation built on luck and circumstance. Failure, accumulated and stacked like endless bodies in a mass grave, forges the deepest roots into unshakable power. I know all this about power with surety as all I had were countless failures. After all, I am Vakochev, and I set the very Scales of Existence. This... is my story. Existence, is my Story.”---In the brutal Lands of Stone, where mountains move and beasts devour civilizations whole, power is the only currency that matters.Damian Vakochev was once a prince to a glorious power, but he was stripped of that power, family, and everything he held dear as he was left with a shattered foundation.In an age where tribes war for scraps and Neolithic Empires crush all who oppose them, where ancient beasts roam territories older than memory and Mana flows through the Lands of Stone like blood through veins, where Warriors reinforced by Mana who could go against entire armies and Primal Beasts could devour entire mountains, Damian looks upon it all and asks...why?Who said things had to be the way they were? Who decided what power truly was?Why could he not stand over the tallest mountain and declare exactly what power was as he saw fit?!Why did he have to follow the set path of cultivation? Why were others born with Land and Sky Physiques while he was not? What prevented him setting up his own rules and his own paths?!

The plague of insects descended overnight. As an ordinary person without invincible powers and extraordinary exercises, facing blood and death, what should we do at the critical moment of life and death?

(I am a reasonable party, but the novel needs appropriate YY, please do not excessively investigate the rationality of the background in a razor-sharp way.)

- Description from novelbuddy

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.