The Forsaken Hero - Chapter 415: In the Arms of Fate

Name: [Art Tavel (Zhuang Zhou)]

Occupation: [Demon Warlock]

Class: [1]

Bloodline: [Abyss (0.03%), Human (94.97%), Darkness (5%)]

The descendants of the Tavel family, the bloodline of demon warlocks that had declined, had another “dark” bloodline after the arrival of Zhuang Zhou.

With this bloodline, he can summon monsters from the dark world.

The first thing he thought of was not to drive the summons to help fight, but to wonder if the equipment of the dark world would explode after the summons died?

- Description from novelbuddy

An inexplicable danger lurks within the harbor, where numerous containers emit a pungent stench. Suddenly, crew members fell ill and began to wildly attack other people. The text that appeared out of thin air told her that this was a survival game.

Fu Anan thought that it was just a dream, and that she wouldn’t be affected by it once she woke up.

It wasn’t until the game told her: She would die if she didn’t follow the rules of the game. She would also die if she didn’t survive for at least thirty days in the game…

Unknown danger on the cruise ship; An isolated island that suffocates people; creatures inside the fog; Floods that engulf everything; Epidemic with no cure; Constantly collapsing lands……

How should one survive in various natural and man-made disasters, and in environments where resources are scarce?

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

The nuclear holocaust which caused the collapse of the Old Times on Earth should have wiped out all human life on the planet. Yes, the gods set up their beautiful Elysiums to provide sanctuaries for their chosen, but by all rights everyone outside the elysian lands should’ve perished long ago. Yet somehow, human life still managed to persist, even in the deadly, mutant-infested wastelands.

Cloudhawk was a young scavenger who dreamed of being as free as the hawks in the skies, yet seemed destined to live out his life scrounging for scraps in the wasteland ruins. Fate, however, is ever-fickle. A chance meeting with a ragtag group of mercenaries changed the trajectory of his life, bringing him into a world with mutants and metahumans, demonhunters and godslayers, and even gods and demons. Cloudhawk would find his own place in a world that was far greater than he had imagined, find his own path between the zealous light of Sumeru and the whispering darkness of the Abyss… and one day, he would find that even gods may fall.