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... soon enough. Identify reads that they're level 100 monsters, they attack their targets using mutated tree vines. Extremely high defense, cannot move, only weakpoint is fire.


They don't look much different from ordinary trees, the only problem is that they got several really long vines, and will immediately attack if you get close. It's a good thing they can't move at all.


Same practice. Lucky clears the way while Phantom gets inside me and cause fire everywhere. Because ...

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A poor boy whose parents died accidentally found a mysterious space and set foot on the avenue of cultivating immortals. From then on, he planted spiritual herbs, refined elixir, opened shops, trained troops, and established a fairyland…

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What are the heavens?

Aloof and solitary, none can measure it’s might. It is law. It is commandment. It is merciless. It is unfeeling.

Overlooking all existence, controlling the winds and clouds, stripping reward and punishment, leisurely yet capable. For these reasons, the Will of Heaven cannot be measured, the firmament cannot be approximated. Obey it and yield to it even though it may not be to one’s benefit. Oppose it and rebel against it, fortune and disaster however are hard to determine.

Heaven, imprisoning the manifold existences like a deep well, the living things of the mortal world as mud.

There existed such a very simple, very resolute frog at the bottom of the well, cautiously guarding his mind there were a few, faint rays of light, bearing the meager convictions to absolutely nibble upon swan meat. Step by step from amidst the mire of the mortal world, struggling to leave, step by step to exit the unseeable depths of the sordid, deep well.

When he opened his great mouth towards the thoughts of nipping the swan, recklessly taking the firmament and swallowing it down in one bite!  

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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