War God Supreme - Chapter 1410 - Blood Moons Divine Power (1)

After the judgment, the ire of God was revealed with the words: “Be cast unto eternal damnation!” And so it was that humans and jinns alike found themselves scattered across the Nine Circles of Hell, left to burn and suffer for eternity. Until after an untold number of eternities, an angelic voice called out, announcing God's decree: “One soul shall earn the chance to return to grace.” Humans and jinns found a shimmering screen appear before their eyes, tallying their sins and something called 'Fragments of Divinity'. “Cleanse away your sins,” said the voice. “Do what must be done!”Now, a human known as Wretched Nameless One—the only human found in the Ninth Circle—sets out on a journey to claim his spot in Heaven, tasked with fighting hellish monsters and devilish hell-dwellers competing to return to grace. Will he escape eternal torment and rise to grace or return to the everlasting cleansing fire once more?

“Married rich for three years with no child born. Just when she was finally cured of infertility and ready to give him a child, he brought home his pregnant mistress in high profile.

Have you ever thought that the state of the world as it presently is, could revert to the laws of the ancients? When a series of strange incidents beginning with the disappearance of his friend led Luo Yuan to question the possibility of an apocalypse, he becomes embroiled in the midst of a global-scale chaos.

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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