I reincarnated in a cultivation world as a omnipotent villain - Chapter 113: Battle Of Yanderes III

She comes from the top of Zhongshan Mountain, she is covered with frost and snow, she is unparalleled in beauty, but she has no talent for “love”, and she likes nothing more than a cup of tea in her life, watching the excitement.

It is said that she was young and ill-fated, with a weird personality, but in fact, she can also be obedient and docile, with a smile like a flower.

It is said that she has a mean tongue, arrogant and rude, but in fact, she can also smile sweetly and be gentle and amiable.

but–

She… is… is… no, happy, willing!

Until that day, she met a boy.

Half of the city is full of wind and moon and half of the city is snow. All the scenery in her life are brilliant because of him.

…

- Description from novelbuddy

That day, my head was struck by an unknown object, and after I woke up, I realized that I’m able to, through titles, understand a person’s truest side.

‘Royal Roader,’ the game that I ruled as an overlord was ending its service. Shit! It was my life’s only pleasure.

The last day! I used all of my strength and in-game connections to defeat the final boss monster, Demon Heros.

As a reward, I earned a Marble of Wishes.[Please state your wish.]My wish? [Royal Roader’s renewal as reality.]I was just joking. I really only wrote it as a joke…

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.They were both the creators and the enders of stories.Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.“Step over my corpse and go on,” he said.