Necromancer Academy's Genius Summoner - Chapter 412

An experiment gone wrong, or possibly right? A Nascent Kaleidoscope opens his eyes.

A reincarnated Zelretch story. Previous Fate-series knowledge recommended.

A Fate/DxD/Multi Crossover.

In Light of the horrendous new update, know that I do cross post on Fan Fiction dot Net.

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Chen Yuan transmigrated and became a Mountain Patrol Military Officer.The eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain is his pasture.Unfortunately, the Great Qian Dynasty is in its final years, with its fate collapsing.Demonic disasters plague the land, bringing devastation to all living beings. The human world becomes a battleground, entering the mortal realm to face calamities.Monstrous beings and malevolent spirits take the stage, disrupting the martial world.Chen Yuan, armed with the Tiger Talisman for Mountain Moving, patrols on behalf of heaven, cutting down mountains and destroying temples.In the eight hundred miles of Langdang Mountain, demons and monsters shall not appear!

The Super-Dimensional Game has descended upon Blue Star. Everyone can enter the game and obtain a World Fragment, becoming a deity and leading their tribe to conquer all directions, even conquering the alternate world.

Fortunately, Logan, who transmigrated here, has a Drop System. Whether it's him or his subordinates, they can all receive drops after victory.

[Log: Your believers have defeated the wolf pack. Drop: Bond—“Wolf Pack”]

[Log: Your believers have defeated the Sun Elves. Drop: Bloodline—“Child of the Sun”]

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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”