Law of the Devil - Chapter 290 part 2

[Warning: Mature content R-18 ]My tags: Smart Mc - Harem - Milf Hunter- Op Mc - Cold and cunning Mc - edgy-Op-Mc, NO YURI, smut- romance-massacre.As flames scorched the land and blood painted the soil, a lone figure stood atop a mountain of fallen demigods and chosen apostles, his blade, a masterpiece of folded steel, dripping with the blood of those who dared to invade. The gods had taken everything: his clan, his love, leaving him with nothing but wrath. They had made one critical mistake, however, they had crossed into Makaiyama (魔界山), the sacred mountain of Ryukoku’s most feared legend: the Heavenly Demon.Beyond the veil of space and time, celestial beings gazed in shock. “Impossible…” one god whispered, watching as the Heavenly Demon, armed with nothing but raw skill and a dark aura, felled three divine kin. Rage flared across their ranks as they saw their immortal kin fall to mere mortal swordsmanship, untainted by magic.Even as the Heavenly Demon staggered, weapons lodged deep into his body, he fixed his gaze forward, crimson eyes blazing with defiance. His obsidian katana, blood-soaked, pierced the peak of Makaiyama like a stake driven into the heart of heaven itself. His voice echoed in the darkness between life and death, and there, in the chasm of despair, a metallic whisper resonated:“[Project God Executioner has been activated.]”“[Accept?]” the voice asked.With a heart ablaze, he swore vengeance. He would rise, not as a puppet, but as the gods' executioner.

A lowly child beggar, a noble prince, a monster viewed as the enemy of the entire world. If you possess all three identities at the same time, which identity would you choose to help you earn a better ending?

A Lovecraft- inspired darker, grittier One piece fanfic. A fanfic based on emotion and madness. A fanfic not for the faint hearted.----------------Regret. I have been drowning in it for far too long. I’ve regretted every choice I’ve made, every mistake I’ve carried, every moment of my past. I’ve regretted the present I live, the path I walk. Even my future, uncertain as it may be, has been tainted by regret.But not anymore. I refuse to live under its shadow. Yet, I know the truth—I don’t have the power to escape it completely.Am I not like a flicker of flame? So fragile, so fleeting—one puff, and I’m gone.Regret has burdened me, weighed me down to make me climb the towering wall of greatness. But I press on.It was all I could do. All I ever wanted to do.

The figure of the Armada seems to be still riding the wind and waves in the Atlantic Ocean, and the gold of South America still seems to flow in continuously. As Alfonso from the Bourbon family returns to the Royal Palace of Madrid where he was born, the story begins here…

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