Reborn in Naruto As Madara's Grandson - Chapter 567: 532. Battle of Wood Release

It was only after Su Yayan's death that she realized that she was a malicious cannon fodder female character who became a scapegoat in a Mary Sue story.

The earth mutated, and the whole city evaporated!

Su Yi and the whole city came to another world strangely, where monsters are rampant, dynasties are fighting for hegemony, there is no peace of modern civilization, only the jungle of the jungle!

Fortunately, his mobile phone also changed…

Gods, demons, demons, Buddhas, immortals, etc. are all pulled into the phone by him and used by him!

I am the emperor of all monsters, and I am the master of all gods!

- Description from novelbuddy

Orin Stonewood rises from a prestigious smithing family in the Astral Kingdom. Wealth, recognition, excellence, and charisma - he had it all. But life from twenty-five ended on such terms for him. He falls victim to a dark ritual. The fate after this mystery was to rise and fall in every life he reincarnates in. The ninth reincarnation made him Zmey Ashbane. Into a world of terrifying, exciting tales. It seemed as if every encounter in this world wanted to tie him down for some reason. But he knew his goal. To break free from the ritual and rise as a master of fate, not its pawn.(Update rate: 28 new chapters a week)(The book has a slow progression. If, after reading up to chapter 100, nothing in this story interests you, that means it isn’t for you.)Due to the progression, I will lock the novel at chapter 60.

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.”