A Lifetime of Peace and Care - Chapter 17 - Drinking Chicken Soup

Have you ever thought about how your life would turn out at the age of 18?Well before I could even say that I was an adult to even say I was going to conquer it.The world had seemed to already be determined of what mine and the rest of humanity would be when the first Leviathans was made public to our world.

The call of the nightmare realm cannot be denied, the woven fate is inevitable.

His ability to travel to the nightmare realm granted him immortality but also pit him with an unfamiliar world, curses and magics unseen before in the real world.

Monsters of unknown origin, macabre beasts and horrors beyond the ken of man have taken the place of old inhabitants of a once glorious civilization.

Now under the light of the Clairvoyant Moon the nightmare realm is on the verge of destruction. Here you will find dishonorable knights, mad sorcerers, twisted alchemist, the malformed Lost Ones and the vestiges of old gods all converging in a dead world.

But there are also those who seek to undo the curse, to restore the world. There are scavengers that only want to survive, the seekers of truth that seek the secrets of old.

And then there’s Aldrich who plans to exploit the resources and powers of the nightmare realm to achieve his own goals.

The epic tale of struggle against impossible odds and enemies bigger than life.

What Aldrich will find outside his little village will not just test the limits of his will, but also his sanity.

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Aldrich, is a fifteen year old boy, living in a small village called Wakefield, he dreams of being a Crestmaster.

On the day Aldrich awakens his Crest, Wakefield is attacked and burned.

He is the only survivor, barely making it out with a mysterious gift, a heavy mission and dire warnings to never turn back.

He is then told to forget about what he saw and the innocent villagers that died, to never ask questions. All things Aldrich could never do.

One day he will uncover the forces behind the massacre and take his revenge. But for now he will lower his head and pretend that nothing has happened.

For now.

Read the first six chapters, and you won’t be able to stop.Elliot Crown was just an ordinary teenager......boring life, average grades, nothing special. But one day, he unlocked a terrifying ability: he could hear people’s thoughts… but only if he knew their name and age first.At first, he treated it as a game, exploiting secrets, manipulating people, and bending reality to his will.But then, the nightmare began.One night, he fell asleep in his world—only to wake up in another. No explanation. No way back. Just an unfamiliar world filled with danger.He tried using his ability, desperate for answers.And then… he died.But that wasn’t the end.He woke up again........in a different world. New body. New identity. Same fate.Over and over, the cycle continued. Sometimes a prince, sometimes a slave, a soldier, a sorcerer, a demon… but every time, he met the same cruel fate.Yet Elliot didn’t care. As long as he had his power, he would manipulate, deceive, and twist the world to his will. If the universe wanted to play games with him… then he would play to win.

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.”