MTL - The War of Resistance - Chapter 1172 white face turmoil

Every drop of this family bloodline is stained with sin. They are the embodiment of contradiction; calm yet maniacal, with great memories yet often forgetful. They pledge themselves to their dreams yet often compromise, are angels that are also devils… It’s why I hate them. And also love them.

The only hope of his family, a youth with the blood of elves and devils walks on a battleground of annihilation and rebirth. He wills his way through boiling lava and icy depths, killing on this field of despair to strike down the lofty figure in his sight. One day he’ll grasp his blade tightly and survey his surroundings, only to find no more enemies to kill.

Ning Yechen used to be the Demon Lord. He singlehandedly took over the Demon Realm and attacked the Heavenly Realm. His name preceded him throughout the Six Realms. He got tired of fighting, so he quietly went into seclusion and became a happy hermit.One night, an Empress from the Heavenly Realm fell into the Mortal Realm after someone drugged her with an aphrodisiac. She inadvertently fell into his room, and they made out. After the deed, the Empress quietly left. Just when he thought he would never see her again, she showed up in front of him ten years later, bringing a child, saying it was his daughter and demanding accountability from him! “She’s your daughter. You have to be responsible for us!” Ning Yechen was stunned!

I’ve become the time-stop breeding uncle from an erot*c game.But the situation is completely f*cked up, so I saved the world first.Before I knew it, people around me were praising me as a hero.…..I don’t give a f*ck about being a hero, I just want to retire. f*ck.

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go.Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass.Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons.On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes.A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past.Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.