MTL - Iron Powder and Spellcasters - Chapter 447 The great alliance moves forward (19)

For a long time, Malin always felt that Fate had been quite generous to him. Although he had to face that life-threatening job every day, as long as he had the lovely Leopard Girl cooking delicious food for him daily, and as long as there was meat to eat and cats to stroke, life wasn't too unbearable. Working a bit harder and facing some difficulties on the job weren't really an issue for a man.Moreover, being able to live two lives meant one shouldn't have too high demands, right, Mr. Different-Kind?Having said that, and without waiting for an answer, the young man snapped his fingers, and the white flame on his fingertip lit the tobacco in his other hand, then he flicked it towards the non-human entity on the stake.Welcome to Abield, to witness the last splendor of the steampunk era.And the madness.

Jake had spent his entire life buried in textbooks, chasing one exam after another — until he finally graduated from one of the world's top universities as a nuclear engineer. He thought the hard part was over. It wasn't.On the very first day of his new job, a speeding truck ended it all.But fate had other plans.Jake woke up in the arms of a stunning goddess who offered him a second chance — along with one extraordinary skill of his choosing.[Hypnosis (SSS-Rank): The power to control minds and issue irresistible commands.]Reborn as the bastard son of a noble house in a fantasy world, Jake quickly realized he held a power that could change everything.“Lady Aria,” Jake said, his voice low and calm, “you'll find yourself wanting to obey me more than anything else.”The cold, dignified head maid stiffened, her eyes clouding with confusion — then softening into eager submission.“Stepmother,” Jake smiled lazily, “you've been working too hard. You need to let me take care of you... personally.”The once-proud woman faltered, her cheeks flushing as she nodded without hesitation.“Miss Evelynn, heir of House Marlow,” Jake said casually to the visiting noble, “you'll trust me more than anyone else in the world.”With every whispered command, Jake planted a seed deep inside their minds — seeds that would soon blossom into absolute devotion.***Check out my discord for character illustrations: https://discord.gg/Z9pY9tE9e8(No Yuri/No NTR)

Once an unsung slave; Yur’s existence was defined by blood, pain, and chains. That was until he stumbled into Zulmasharr, the realm of demons.In the depths of despair and agony, a near-death encounter unsealed the terrifying truth of his existence; he is no mere mortal. A cursed hybrid of human and demon; Yur’s survival was only possible through the bloody rebirth of his Ashkavaal bloodline and the awakening of his sinister cultivation system, Zul.With Zul, Yur can rear demons for rituals, harvest their power, and dominate the chaotic world around him. But freedom comes at a cost. As the incognizant successor to an ancient being, his every step is burdened by the weight of a destiny he never asked for. Yur craves only one thing: to stay free, unbound by demons and men. Yet his growing power and severed bloodline ignite the fascination of forces that would see him enslaved or slaughtered.Yur must steer through a world of demons where trust is a fault, survival is animus, and his very existence is a blemish. Blood will pour, flames will revolt, and demons... they kneel or die. But in the end, is freedom attainable for the bearer of a bloodline forged from blood and ash?Will Yur vanquish his fate or will it condemn him?

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.”