Proud Goddess Falls in Love with Me - Chapter 582 - 542 Human Evaporation_1

This book takes you on a tour of one of the most terrifying yet also most mysterious planes in the Multiverse: the Bottomless Abyss. ------------ A Knight, forsaken by his liege, was forced to exile himself to the Abyss. Due to a fortuitous encounter, he obtained the legacy of a Spiritual Cultivator. What kind of story will he encounter? ------------ The setting mixes the backgrounds of editions 3 and 5, adhering strictly to DND settings apart from the protagonist’s profession, but considers readers who have never participated in a campaign, ensuring that everyone can read it without barriers.

Monsters lurk in the night, but what if something else hunted them? An incident in his childhood left Velik an outcast with a racial subtype that thrives at night and unique class called [The Black Fang], which focuses on just one thing: killing monsters. He’s good at finding them, and he’s good at slaying them. For ten years, he’s been gaining levels and sharpening his skills on the thousands of monsters infesting the wild lands of the frontier. For ten years, he’s kept a lonely stretch of towns safe. Despite his efforts, this year has seen an explosion in the monster population, so much that he’s no longer capable of protecting everyone by himself. This draws the interest of another monster hunter, one that’s professionally licensed, but he seems more interested in investigating Velik than anything else. At least with him there, Velik is free to finally explore the mysteries of the deep wood, where he believes the source of all monsters resides. Every answer he finds leads to new questions, and not even Velik himself knows the truth of what happened on that fateful day. One thing’s for sure: not even the monsters are safe in the dark.

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.”