MTL - Returning From Level 900 - Chapter 12 Wang Wen is here

“What do you mean by I need to steal MILFs to become stronger!?” Waking up in an unfamiliar body of a Prince, Lucian stares in bewilderment as a transparent panel materializes before him, displaying a message that demands — “You need to steal MILFs to become stronger!” His mind races with confusion. What does that even mean?? As the absurdity of his new reality sinks in, he begins to accept the dark possibilities before him. In his previous life, as a master seducer, no beauty had ever escaped his demonic embrace. Now, with this new body, he savors the thrill of his newfound power. Their desires will become my playground, and their most sacred secrets will be mine to exploit. “You’re the Empress? I’ll grant you a divine body if you submit to me.” “Your lover is a once-in-a-thousand-years genius? So what? I’ll make you a prodigy that comes once in a million.” “Your husband is the sect leader of a powerful immortal sect? Irrelevant. I’ll elevate you to become an immortal goddess.” To claim the fate points of the ’Sons of Heaven,’ Lucian will seduce their cherished ones and drain their divine essence.

Lan Chang’an has gone through two lifetimes of reincarnations, and in the third life, he aimed for stability until reaching the Nascent Soul Realm in hopes of unraveling the mysteries of the Nine Seal Stele. Consequently, he cultivated the Ancient Trees Evergreen Technique, which wielded modest power in return for greater lifespan.

His approach is not one of fearlessly engaging in battles, but of navigating with steady precision and forging meaningful bonds with others.

Throughout his long cultivation journey, he encountered individuals at various stages of their cultivation, including a Decent Faction Head, a Prodigious Beauty, a Giant Demon Lord, an Evil Cultivator, a Thousand-Year Old Demon, and a Puppet Master Pulling Strings From Behind The Scene.

Observing the ebb and flow of the world, witnessing its ups and downs, he unknowingly became a living fossil in the realm of cultivation, akin to an evergreen tree spanning through eternity.

In the world of mortals, the flow of life is steady, shrouded in the illusion of longevity, yet decisions are made decisively, with a clear sense of morality.

After years of exile, Marcus is coming back home. A powerful mage with few equals, Marcus lives in a world full of monsters and powerful adepts, many of which have bad histories with him. But he has not come back to pursue vengeance or start a fight. All Marcus wants to do is reconnect with old friends, build himself a house, and maybe train a successor or two.Alas, the world didn’t stop just because Marcus went into exile, and not everyone is content to let go of old grievances. Strange things are happening in the world at large, too, hinting at a looming disaster of unknown nature. Still, where there is a will, there is a way.If nothing else, Marcus has a lot of magical power to throw at problems.+++Zenith of Sorcery is set in its own original setting and isn’t related to Mother of Learning… beyond being written by the same person, of course. This is a more classical fantasy story than my previous one, with a lower level of technology and stuff like elves and dwarves, but it has a lot of worldbuilding effort put into it and its own complex magical system. The story has significant xianxia influences, but isn’t meant to be a xianxia story.For those of you not familiar with my previous work, I write relatively slowly. I intend to publish chapters at the rate of one chapter every three or four weeks, subject to further delays as life intervenes.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.