The Brilliant Fighting Master - Chapter 1651 - Fire Kylin

Promise transmigrated to the TYPE-MOON world and became one of the students of Waver Velvet at the Clock Tower.But a dream must eventually come to an end.Upon waking from a night's sleep, he recalled his identity as a transmigrator and also discovered his golden finger.A Heroic Spirit Class Card.It can take Promise to different eras, and by leaving behind corresponding legends, he can ultimately ascend to the Throne of Heroes!He thus travelled to ancient Greek mythology and Norse mythology.Promise: “I heard after death, you can ascend to the Throne of Heroes. What are you waiting for, come on, kill me!”(PS: This book is not a traditional simulator story; its content mainly revolves around the Age of Gods, hence the Age of Gods is a long narrative!I didn't use TYPE-MOON in the title as it was already too large)

Going against the heavens, Tuoba Ye reincarnated. Body concealing Divine Root, hands holding Divine Talisman, possessing previous life’s experiences, from childhood, began cultivating the most difficult body refining method: Mythical Nine Transformations.

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I was sixteen when the gods abandoned me.The Blessing Ritual was supposed to grant me power, a divine gift to carve my future. Instead, I received nothing. No abilities. No hope. Just another nameless soul left to rot in a world ruled by strength.Fine. If the gods wouldn’t bless me, I’d make my own power.For ten years, I clawed my way forward, experimenting with forces no human should touch. I pushed too far—and it killed me.Then I woke up.Sixteen again. Back at the Ritual. But this time, something changed.Time bends at my will. Blood moves when I command it.The gods still won’t acknowledge me, but it doesn’t matter. This world isn’t fair, and I’ve stopped playing by its rules. Faith and Chaos clash in my veins, and I will use them both.They wanted a Chosen Hero, someone to dance to their tune.Well, too bad for them—I’ll carve my own fate.

“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.

“Are you my bride?” He held her in his arms, embraced the girl who had accompanied him for ten years straight. He was sixteen years of age.

“Are you my king?” He knelt before the throne, smiling foolishly as he looked at the girl holding the sword victoriously. At this moment, he looked like the boy he was when they first met.

“I’m fine without having eyes for you. The entirety of Camelot is for your taking.” Smiling soft and gently, he gave his eyes to the girl who lost her eyes due to the curse of the red dragon. He doesn’t regret it, he thinks. He was twenty years of age.

“So… Arthur… Artoria Pendragon, are you willing… are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” His voice was soft and clear as he reached out to touch her hand.

This was their legend.

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