MTL - Ninth in The World - Chapter 5 Predecessor

Born into darkness, Lucius is marked by an infernal curse—the Mark of the Abyss. This unholy sigil endows him with powers that defy mortal comprehension, yet seals his fate: servitude, rejection, and a grim demise.Embark on a journey with Lucius as he unravels the hidden truth behind the Marks, battles to carve out a destiny of his own, and strikes back against the cruel fate imposed upon him.In a world that shuns him for his cursed existence, Lucius will forge unlikely alliances to challenge those who scorn him. He is driven by a relentless desire to claim a place for himself and his loved ones, no matter the cost.Prepared to plunge into the darkest depths of depravity, Lucius is poised on the brink of a harrowing journey. The ultimate enigma remains: what awaits him in the abyss of his ambitions?

Chen Chao dreamt of becoming a powerful immortal cultivator, flying on his sword and vanquishing enemies with daoist magic. His hopes were dashed when he discovered that he had absolutely no talent for immortal cultivation.

Refusing to submit to his fate, Chen Chao joined the ranks of countless other talentless martial artists and embarked on the path of martial cultivation, a path scorned by the immortal cultivators.

In this era of strife where martial cultivators, immortal cultivators, and demonic cultivators wrestled for hegemony, Chen Chao will either rise to the top or fall into eternal damnation.

A Group Chat with all the Anime Girls you love!Our MC can go to their world.No NTR, Dark MC, Just pure fun read and slightly ecchi fanfic.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.