My Wife Is The Leader Of A Demonic Cult - Chapter 313 - The Emperors Overwhelming Majesty

Cultivation is about refining oneself and one's heart.The heavens and earth are the furnace, creation is the work, yin and yang are the carbon, the myriad paths are the copper, and with a steadfast Dao heart, one can refine a Primordial Dao Fruit.Refining pills, refining tools, refining formations, refining talismans, refining swords, refining souls, refining medicine, refining plagues, refining demons, refining devils, refining the heart, refining worlds, refining the Dao...Everything in nature can be refined!This is what Xuan Qing says.If you provoke him, he will even refine the Heavenly Dao to show you!Of course, this all began the day he joined the Jie sect...

In the Tranquil Sun province of the empire, there exists an unremarkable lordship known as Xue Ying Territory! This is the home of the Dong Bo clan, the clan of our hero Xue Ying!

His father, a commoner turned noble; his mother, a noble who abandoned her clan for love, and his brother, an innocent toddler. But peace cannot last forever, Xue Ying’s peaceful life is shattered, and the only way to reclaim it is through power!

Born into darkness, Lucius is marked by an infernal curse—the Mark of the Abyss. This unholy sigil endows him with powers that defy mortal comprehension, yet seals his fate: servitude, rejection, and a grim demise.Embark on a journey with Lucius as he unravels the hidden truth behind the Marks, battles to carve out a destiny of his own, and strikes back against the cruel fate imposed upon him.In a world that shuns him for his cursed existence, Lucius will forge unlikely alliances to challenge those who scorn him. He is driven by a relentless desire to claim a place for himself and his loved ones, no matter the cost.Prepared to plunge into the darkest depths of depravity, Lucius is poised on the brink of a harrowing journey. The ultimate enigma remains: what awaits him in the abyss of his ambitions?

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.”