Became a Medieval Fantasy Wizard - Chapter 355

What do humans want most, money, fame, power?

When I was given a choice I wasn't blinded by greed and due to that my new life in another world started.

If you were given a second chance, will you follow your desires even if they were against common sense?

Geniuses, Demons, Gods? as long as they stand in my way the will be returned to nothingness.

Follow Aster on his travel trough the multiple planets and realms as he gains the title “The Perverted Primordial”

After a night of indulgence, An Ge became pregnant with the powerful and influential Mr. Huo's child.During the pregnancy, the powerful man frequently drew her blood.In order to save her life and protect the child in her womb, she shocked everyone by saying, “Mr. Huo, I'm carrying your child!”The man sneered, “Are you trying to blackmail me or do you wish to die? If so, I'll grant your wish!”Disheartened, she faked her death and fled with the child.Later, that man, who was always cold and harsh to her, knelt before her grave for three days and nights.Later still, word somehow got out that she faked her death, and he became enraged, locking down the globe in a frenzy to find her.Finally, one day, he cornered her at a wedding, furiously roaring, “You can't marry him, I'm the real father of the child!”An Ge squinted and smiled slightly, “Sorry, who are you?”In the time that followed, he humbled himself into the dust, every night kneeling in front of her bed, begging, “Miss An, please marry me.”

Feng Yun was an ordinary young man who was unable to cultivate. One day, He got the inheritance of the Ancient Yang Demon Clan and a mysterious sword. With these he became a super genius and started his new journey from a small town to heaven, sweeping across the world, vying for the supreme existence.

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.”