The Extreme Alchemist of the Mighty Cauldron - Chapter 1749 - 1846: Cultivation Recovery

“They said the world would fall without me.”“They said I was the strongest.”“Then they buried me with honors... and a blade behind my back.”Remiel St. Clair, humanity’s strongest exalt, prince of a once glorious empire, was betrayed and buried.Nine centuries later, he awakens in the body of Lucien Callastre, the second prince of a kingdom descended from his own treacherous bloodline.Stripped of powers, but not of pride, he must rebuild his lost strength and rise to power yet again to fend off the ever-growing threats of the spirits.The maw is growing.The spirits are returning.But so is he.And this time, the Exalted Prince is not dying quietly.

The world of Nyil, with its monsters, its knights and its mildly sociopathic gods. Come and see! A soul flees and a soul arrives, blessed by luck. Will she survive? Will she thrive? Will she become a calamity? After all, luck is such a fickle thing. ‍

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A world where cultivation is scientifically practiced. A world in which cultivation method is theoretically possible. With the slight Circulation Of My Blood, The World Trembled!

Follow David as he struggled to survive in this world where,

Cells are being awaken,

Genes changing,

Gene pools being constructed,

Catalysts manufactured,

Generic nucleus harvested.

Evolved Beings invading the inner world. Survival of the fittest.

“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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