MTL - Worlds’ Apocalypse Online - Chapter 81 face

In the vast world of cultivation, a talisman is formed by merging the essence of heaven and earth with the spirit and soul of the practitioner. Imbuing the formless with power and imprinting it onto paper, talismans hold immense potential. Yet, this art comes with a price—most who pursue the talismanic path exhaust their spiritual consciousness, falling before they reach their full potential.Lu An’s fate was no different—until his soul, shattered by fate, found itself reborn in a new realm of cultivation. Within his sea of consciousness, he discovers the Four Treasures of the Study, mystical tools that allow him to create talismans without depleting his spiritual energy. With this newfound gift, Lu An begins his ascent.[You have drawn a Breath-Concealing Talisman. Completion Rate: 62%. Grade: Inferior, first grade. Spiritual consciousness refunded.][You have drawn a Wealth-Bringing Talisman. Completion Rate: 73%. Grade: Middle, fifth grade. Spiritual consciousness refunded.][You have drawn a Three-Yuan Gathering Qi Talisman. Completion Rate: 85%. Grade: Superior, ninth grade. Spiritual consciousness refunded.]The world of talisman-making opens before him—mastery over the five elements, control of winds and thunder, the study of formations, the nurturing of spiritual creatures, and even the command of ancient treasures. With every talisman, Lu An’s understanding of the Dao deepens, his soul, body, and laws intertwining as one. His talismans grow in power—some divine, some forbidden—each step toward immortality.Using the very forces of nature as his tools, Lu An crafts talismans that can reshape reality. With mountains and seas as his ink and brush, and heaven and earth as his canvas, he will rise to the pinnacle of the immortal realm. Even the immortals and Buddhas will bow before him, for they know him as the Talisman Ancestor.But few recall the man behind the legend, the one named Lu An, whose journey to the top, though formidable, has only just begun.

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

“Nano Mashin?”

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

After a long time in the darkness, a lost soul is transported to another world, and there the soul is given another chance and is reborn as a boy...In a world of swords and magic, Zaos is given another chance after hearing an unknown voice asking him to protect someone. While he couldn't remember many things about his old life, he still decided to live his new as much as possible. Even though it looked like he was destined to do something, Zaos chose to follow his own path as much as possible.He tried that... but it looked like the machinations of destiny won't give him much option. Weird things were happening in the kingdom he was born, and before he could imagine... Zaos was throw in the middle of a war in which some were trying to revive the god of the world, and others were trying to prevent it. Zaos will fight in this war while he also looks for the person he is supposed to protect.The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

—— Dickens《A Tale of Two Cities》

I made myself a ghost back to life from death, with hatred in my bones and conspiracy brewed for years, sinking into the marsh, into the abyss. All I want is to bury the rotten roots, growing thistles and thorns which can kill like upas, to stab into the hypocritical civilization.

In the bottom of the muck……I found my lucida.

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