MTL - Game of Thrones: Holy Flame King - Chapter 137 champion knight

In Ten Heavens Domain, full of respected powerhouses, juvenile Ling Tian accidentally obtained a mysterious iron sword. He refined the Supreme Martial Dao, studied the Divine Spirit Array Laws, fought Ten Thousand proud and arrogant Heavenly Clans, and was undefeated! Seven Feet Sword Tip sweeps away the world, within the Ten Heavens, I am the Supreme God Monarch!

- Description from Novelupdates

Coming out of the Ideal Human Project, Mizuhara Ayato was referred to as the 'perfect human'. However, life was not so simple for this unfortunate boy. Stuck between other genius students and a meritocratic high school, Mizuhara would find himself unable to live a calm life.

Who really is Mizuhara Ayato?

Apathetic, listless and uncaring, will anyone ever make Mizuhara feel something? Even in the harsh conditions of the Tachibana System, he shows no signs of struggle.

Is he the ultimate proof that nurture is stronger than nature?

***

Sara Fujiharu, the cutest girl in the school, is also known as the 'Seatmate Bully'. Every few weeks, the class seating changes and every time, Fujiharu-san gets a new target. What's her goal? To make the boy sitting next to her fall in love, and once she does, she destroys their heart, crushing their love.

Why does she do this? I still don't know.

It's March 23rd, the day of the seating change. So far, ten boys have fallen for her traps, her playful attitude, and her innocent face. Not a single boy so far has managed to brush off her attacks-and every single time; their weak hearts have been crushed.

Now it's my turn.

However, my heart is not so easily played with.

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.”