Minute Mage: A Time-Traveling LitRPG - Chapter 85: Worn Down

[All my novels contains mature themes this one included!! R18 Ahead. I'm damn good in it SO BEWARE!!!]Roger thought he’d seen enough horror and slaughter. But nothing prepared him for the day his mentor—an elite swordsman was ripped in half by something not even the gods should have created.Terrified, alone, and soaked in cold sweat, Roger fled deeper into a jungle that had swallowed countless heroes before him. But what awaited him wasn’t death. It was something far worse.A succubus.The succubus who drained him to his bones.He thought he would never woke up, but he found himself not dead, but reborn... in a temple carved from white stone, beneath the towering gaze of a statue unlike any god he had ever seen or heard.Then came the voice—deep, commanding, and ancient.“I am the God of Chaos. The ruler of the new world. The supreme—Hades.”With those words, Roger’s world unraveled.He was shown visions of a forgotten truth: the Ragnarok of the Gods was never an end, but a transformation. The six most powerful gods—righteous and evil—had not died, but merged. Their remnants gave birth to a being that defied all divine logic, a god born from contradictions: justice and malice, order and desire, light and destruction.Hades.Now, with a wicked grin stretching across the fabric of fate, the God of Chaos has made Roger an offer no sane man should accept... but no ambitious fool can resist.“So you want me to be your messenger? But what can I gain from it?” Roger asked with an expectant look.“Become my messenger I shall grant you the power to stand above all life—save for me.”But Roger is no noble hero. He’s a rogue, a pervert, a coward who cries when death knocks at the door. Yet he's also cunning, curious—and fatally tempted by power and the chance to live without ever bowing again.Now Roger a selfish bastard with a broken sword, a sharp tongue, and the spine to spit in a god’s eye must choose what kind of man he will become: pawn, parasite… or prophet of chaos.Now it looks like one bastard adventurer might just rewrite the fate of Nirn.

I’ve had enough of being transmigrated into books.

The rivers and lakes carry wine with swords, the waist is slender and the palm is light.

The young man carried a long knife on his shoulder, and hung wine on his waist, striding forward, but the rivers and lakes in his heart were vaguely visible.

Turning a page in the book of troubled times, the rivers and lakes have been raining nightly for decades.

Looking back suddenly, the world has been shattered.

- Description from novelbuddy