Imperial Commander: His Pretty Wife Is Spoiled Rotten - Chapter 1872 - Crumbling Away His Last Shred of Hope

Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal.

Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal?

"Uncle, I was punished for being late! " "Buy the school. ""Uncle, I was bullied! " "SEND THEM TO HEAVEN! "In this era of competing for fathers, Qin Sheng never competed for fathers. Those things were too extravagant. She didn't have them, she only competed for uncles!Ever since she had a rich uncle, she lived a life of fighting and being cleaned up by others, causing trouble and being scapegoated by others.Her three big goals in life were to make him fall in love with her, fall in love with her, fall in love with her!

Song Yang was a Mercenary King in his previous life, killed by a stray bullet. He transmigrated to a world of cultivation, where the ability to control clouds and move mountains is commonplace.In this life, after taking over the body of a prince who had lost everything, he awakened a system that granted him a legion of thousands of cultivators in the Saint Realm from the start, and thus his story began.Creating a Shura Palace that made the whole continent tremble as soon as it heard his name.Be it a Saint from a Holy Land, an Emperor from a Powerful Empire? An ancestor from a powerful family?No matter who it is, as long as they pay the corresponding price, Shura Palace can kill.

Annan transmigrated to a new world – the Land of Dense Fog. He had become a rare elite NPC who possessed the player’s system.

However, he had the heart of a player.

I like to stir up matters, and unbridled. But, I’m a kind player. The ally of justice who is favored by this world.

I’m on a main mission. As the righteous player, I’m following my destiny to eradicate you, the evil NPC!

Dear player, I’d recommend you to stop running away. The mission is completed. I’m the righteous NPC now to punish you, the evil players…

—

In the long dark night, the crimson moon hangs high in the sky.

Hoarse whisper patrols the streets. The brass steam engine is emitting blood mist.

Your brain is in ecstasy; your eyes are enchanted.

With cracked skins, it sprouts new flesh.

In the gray mists, shirek cries come from the flesh wall that consumes thousands of corpses…

“Stop crying, our players don’t bite. They just want to play with you.”

The Solitary Schemer, Number 1 Player, Land of Dense Fog’s Savior, Leader of 13 Saints, Friend of 12 Upright Deity, Pioneer King, “The Righteous One,” Gatekeeper of Forth Disaster, Crownless Deity, the great Annan advised kindly.