MTL - I Have a Sickness - Chapter 112 I have an anxiety disorder

Reborn into a world shaped by ashen storms, brutal blizzards, and sword-wielding sorcerers, Arilyn must forge his own path.Magic is abundant, spread far and wide by the realm-spanning Grand Spell. Even in the frail body of a newborn, Arilyn is rewarded with attributes, points, and power simply for stubborn hard work. Yet not everything is as bright as it seems. Legends walk the land, and the Blight Lords are hell-bent on resurrecting the Old God.None of this should have mattered to him, living on the fringe of the empire—until strange rumblings rise from the heart of the Candor Mountains.What to Expect: • [Reincarnation, but the MC does not retain any memory of his past in the beginning.]• [Slice of Life, Crafting, Spellcrafting, Training, Slow burn, Weak to Strong, and silly things] • [LitRPG elements, Detailed Magic system, Greek/Roman Empire-esque settings]• [Magic Academy, Eventually]• [Beast Companion?] • [No harem]

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.”

That night, she shed off the image of a young maiden’s immaturity, forming a ripple in the deepest parts of the Cold Palace…

That day, she kneeled before him begging for mercy. She didn’t want anything. She only wanted to leave the palace and become an ordinary girl….

A bunch of elegant and good looking heavenly princes. A lowly palace maid with a mind as calm as still water.

If they were to meet, would it be an encounter like dewdrops and the autumn wind or would it be a lament of a country…

- Description from Novelupdates

It was only after Su Yayan's death that she realized that she was a malicious cannon fodder female character who became a scapegoat in a Mary Sue story.