The Exorcist - Chapter 3Book 2: : The two guys

The paramount existences among daemons are known as ‘Great Sages’.

A young man leaves the mountain village and wanders the world, entering the legends step by step, becoming a part of mythology itself.

In a world ruled by mana and bloodlines, John White was born with none.Reborn from Earth into a noble family, he became the forsaken son of a duke (a bastard) bullied by siblings, ignored by servants, and banished at fifteen like trash.Two years later, he's dragged to a mana mine to be quietly killed by his brother's lackey. But fate has other plans.Deep underground, an ancient abyss-grade ring awakens. It merges with Earth’s forgotten technology with the world’s magic. Fueled by pure mana, it unlocks the Black Hole magic, granting him power never seen before.From a worthless outcast to a terrifying Void Lord, John begins crafting magical tech tools that warp reality itself. His enemies have no idea what’s coming.Will he burn his past to ashes… or rebuild the world in his own image?

Corporate slave Reiji went to another world one day, made one rank higher potions, and li~ghtly made a killer profit!

He used that money to open a drug store, and troubled people who heard the rumors came over…

Eyedrops for an elf troubled over his failing bow aim!

Cough syrup for the dragon that unintentionally releases his dragon breath!

Reiji makes medicine for troubled people, enjoying his leisurely slow life in a rural city.

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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