MTL - Wasteland Commander - Chapter 4 Hunt zombies

Hao Chen, a very handsome young man, doesn't have anything except his little sister.As he was walking home from where he worked, he suddenly had an accident.A car hit him while he was crossing a zebra crossing.But Hao Chen knows one thing, if it was a deliberate act, knows who is the mastermind behind all this.Unfortunately he couldn't do anything at that time, due to his serious injuries.His head was bleeding, and even his bones were broken.Because the blood continued to flow out, staining the surrounding streets.Hao Chen, he died.But he didn't realize that there was a light that witnessed everything, about his entire life and his memories.“What a poor mortal, let me, the God Emperor, Hao Tian, ​​help you avenge yourself!”A voice sounded from the surroundings, its tone was arrogant and filled with elegance.Suddenly the light began to enter the depths of Hao Chen's body, who was now dead.***Watch on by reading the first chapter of this novel, the adventure that the god emperor will go through who returns as a mortal!

This is a story about a young man who sought to fight against his destiny. With the help from billions of Dragon Energies trapped on the Rising Dragon Pillar in his body, he emerged from the dark and quenched himself with the blood of ancient dragons. He fought the heaven with the Buddhist Art for the people he loved and built the Eternity Kingdom with his own hands. This is a story about the rise of the Martial Emperor who will rule both earth and heaven.

- Description from Novelupdates

Corvin Blackmoor was a man carved by war and betrayal.From the blood soaked deserts of Afghanistan to the shadowed corridors of British Intelligence, he served and watched ideals crumble into lies.Patriotism. Honor. Loyalty.He buried them all long before a Quds Force assassin silenced his final breath.But death was only the beginning.Dragged from the ruins of a dying world, Corvin awakens in Valtheris. A savage world ruled by magic, where gods are myths, and survival is written in blood.He is no longer human.He is the last of the Dark Parasytes, an extinct race once so feared that every kingdom, every empire, and every mage order hunted them to extinction.Armed with Shadow Siphon, the power to replicate the strengths of others, Corvin stands alone at the bottom of an alien food chain.Weaker than a wild beast, with enemies and predators lurking in every forest, every court, every throne.Weakness is temporary, patience is eternal.In a world fractured by ancient wars, between noble Elves, scheming Demons, ruthless Humans, primal Feralis and Aetherborn Corvin will climb.He will feast. He will conquer.And in the shadows of Valtheris, the last predator will rise.No gods. No masters.Only the cold ambition of a man who has nothing left to believe in… but power itself.

Every hero starts with power. He started with dust.One moment, the classroom buzzed with teenage chatter. The next, silence fell. Students blinked—and opened their eyes in an ancient hall carved from gold and marble. The air shimmered with divine magic. And at its center stood a goddess—flawless, proud, unbelievably beautiful and wrapped in flowing white.It was a divine summoning performed by a divine goddess.Among them was Vritra… and his stunningly beautiful mother.While others received blessings, powerful physiques and grand titles, Vritra was given a skill so pathetic it made even the goddess wrinkle her nose. An ability—so pitifully weak that it drew laughter, scorn, and even disgust. But that wasn't the worst part.Betrayed and cornered inside the labyrinth, Vritra had two choices: die… or fall into the death trap.A death canopy with no exit and no chance of survival, the only option was to slaughter the demons endlessly for months.Finally!! He forced his dormant skill to awaken, after killing thousands and hundreds of thousands demons and devouring them, becoming a broken ability.******White robes. Cold arroganceA sinful revenge.White robes can stain. And in the dark, even divinity can moan.And then there was his mo— guilt in her breath, shame in her eyes, whispering apologies between gasps in her son's ear, doing what had to be done… for both their sakes.