Terror Infinity - Vol 23 Chapter 1-3: Training Begins(III)

Being re-birthed as a cell, Han Dong utilized the power of the Prison code and came into a parallel world where the Ancient Ones have awakened.

A steam powered civilization, horrifying subspaces, the Ancient King of the Eternal Night and strange monsters lurking outside the city.

The door of Destiny has been opened – Crusaders, Library, Control, Machinery and Mysticism would become the new growth system for human development.

The hymn of Humanity is the song of courage! The brave and dauntless Knights Regiments, riding into the world ruled by the Ancient King to seize back the freedom that belongs to mankind.

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The heavens and earth change when the blood phoenix descends.

Collecting legendary antiques, retracing the mysterious martial arts. From the moment he activated his cheat, Casio knew that he was no longer ordinary.[Legendary Antiques: Wind Elephant Ivory Pendant]Seventy years ago, in the North Flow Country of the Hong Li Federation, at the Wind Elephant Gate Youth Training Camp.“Li Wei, you are a coward! On the day your sister was brutally murdered, you were trembling in a corner! On the night of the Sect Destruction War, you disgracefully fled! During the many long years of revenge, you missed the opportunity again and again!”“Now let me teach you what bravery is, let me tell you how to turn suffering into your power. I hope at the moment you behead your enemy, you will remember: you are a man, an upright man!”The taboo era, hidden legends. A Foggy continent paralyzed by the sealed land. Countless brilliant antiquities wail in the ruins.I will witness your lost legends in the mist, the knights in the sky, the ghosts in the desert, the rats in the mud. The direction of sword fights points to the light, and flowers will grow where bullets fall. The winds of history will eventually sweep away the rubbish from the era's gravesite.

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.”