Farming in the Mountains: Max Level Jiaojiao Is Three Years Old - Chapter 1699: Big Revelation!

A mission for justice that spans across two lifetimes, a fresh beginning that presents a new opportunity to succeed where he once failed. In a time of grave peril for a world on the brink of anarchy, a hero rises like a phoenix from its own ashes to offer a faint glimmer of hope.Armed with his wealth of knowledge and experience from his past life, as well as an almighty cultivation art obtained under mysterious circumstances, Fang Che sets out to exact vengeance on the Church of the Self-Righteous, a blight on the entire continent and the ones that had put an end to his past life.Original blurb:The long night shrouds the world, and the dawn is delayed.Evil descends upon the earth, and living beings suffer.He wanders in the long night, strolling upon the edge of a blade, swaying between the clouds and hell.Igniting the fire of the star soul.Since the long night stretches on, I shall be the ruler of the night.

A no-name character that never appeared in the novel.An extra.Neo became that extra character....Transmigrating into the novel and gaining the bloodline of Hades, the God of Death, was supposed to be the best thing to happen in Neo’s life.So…Why?[Unique Skill: Death][Skill Effect: You die]Why did he awaken this damned skill!?

The boundless universe was filled with all sorts of wonders.

I, Chen *Ping’an, only have one sword, to move mountains, turn the seas upside down, suppress demons, deal with gods, pluck stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and open the heavenly abode!

My name is Chen Ping’an, Ping’an* of Peace, and I am a swordsman.

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 the 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.

An 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.

Notes:

* Ping’an means peace

** The four directions here are just the four sides of the map of China and the earth. As for the World of Righteousness, it was only one of the four “World”.

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Rakna was not normal. No, unmistakably not.

Whether it was his appearance, his personality, his abilities, his identity, nothing about him had ever been banal. Was it his choice?

No. He was merely but a tormented soul doing its utmost to live the life it had learned to never enjoy.

Would being picked by a glorified universal abductor calling itself a system bring something out of him?

Would he finally learn to breathe in the pool of blood that suffocated him? The Harvester does not sow, he only collects.

All he has ever known to feel was loss and the only thing he can do is take.

He will devour their hearts and drink their blood if it is what it takes.