Babies' Secret: My Ex Wants Me Back! - Chapter 48: A gift

Felix was reincarnated as Lindarion Sunblade, a prince of Eldorath, destined for greatness—or so they say. In a world where magic, swordsmanship, and archery reign supreme, power is everything, and the strong shape history. But strength isn’t given, it’s earned.With a System awakening within him, one that pushes his limits with deadly quests sometimes, helps him with skills, and helps with forging weapons into legendary artifacts, he refuses to be just another noble in a gilded cage.Trials await, enemies lurk in the shadows, and even among his own kind, power breeds conflict.But he will rise. Not just as a prince—but as a ruler, a warrior, and a legend over the entire world.

His mother died when she gave birth to him, his father a physically abusive alcoholic. Life is not kind to Darius King.

Darius would have dreams of being in a world of magic, but alas, his dreams would always end.

He hated life, and life hated him, so he ended both his and his father's.

When reincarnating into a peasant-like lifestyle as Liam, in the town of Ucladd, Darius realizes he has entered the world of cultivation!

With his ambitious, ruthless, and curious nature combining into one, he paves a bloody path to power.

Shifting his gaze from the Earth towards the Sky, nothing will stop him on his path for strength.

“I will touch the stars... or die trying.”

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

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.”