The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound - Chapter 429: The Lion King (2)

Heavenly Pearl, an unknown mysterious, and heaven-defying object, for some reason, enter the heart of a young man named Ye Xiao who was framed and crippled by his fellow sect members for some unknown reasons and got kicked out from his sect.

magic, dangerous creatures, and powerful magical women. With the Warlock’s Contract System now awakened, Damian can form pacts with supernatural allies and women, with every new bond granting him abilities that drive his magic and power to insane levels.But with power comes a whole mess of complications. Damian’s new world is a deadly maze of supernatural politics, hidden agendas, and ruthless enemies who’d want to steal his Mana Core. Damian has to figure out who to trust, how to survive, and what the System’s secrets.Later, Damian finds that his System might be the key to an ancient artifact, a long-forgotten power, and strangest of all… the lost fragments of his own memory.The question is, can he survive long enough to unlock it all?Important Note: No NTR, No yuri, No rapeTags: Mature Content , R18, Gore, Weak to Strong, Character Development, Reincarnation, Monster Girls , Witch , Magic , Demons , Dragons, Elves, Vampire, Fae, Beasts , Action , Mystery , Harem , System , Servants , Fast Learner.

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.”