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Falling Stardust

To protect my family, I became a Devil. To protect my people, I became a God. In Semeria, the war for cultivation resources is as old as time and as constant as the rising and of the sun. Even in the Abandoned Region, where the energy was so poor and polluted that one wouldn’t send their worst enemy there, had endless conflicts for resources. Humans had been living in this nightmare made a reality, fighting over what anyone else on the continent would consider crumbs for millions of years. Enter Xasha, husband, father, patriarch, Genius, artificer, creationist, and leader of the Falling Stardust Trading Company, who learns the truth of the world from three remnant souls he met on a journey. Having learned they had been living like frogs in a well. Humanity reluctantly united under Xasha’s rule and sets off. Determined to rise from their standing and one day ruling the entire continent. Xasha soon realizes their strength, even combined, was the weakest on the continent. To become stronger, they needed better resources. But all the lands had landlords and all the resources had owners. He could not turn back, they could not give up. He had a person to elevate, a family to care for, and a daughter who had a powerful and mysterious entity eyeing her from afar, to protect. In order to achieve any of his goals, any of humanity's goals. Those landlords had to die, their people had to be pillaged, and their lands had to be plundered. He inadvertently fell into the cycle. According to the Laws of cultivation. Law of Cultivation: To cultivate: acquire and retain resources. To acquire resources: plunder and pillage. To retain resources: Leave none Alive.

QingDomCom · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
353 Chs

We Won

Silence: there was absolute silence as the entire world stopped, almost as if waiting for Qingo's blade to drop. Not even the wind dared to blow in such a situation. It was absolute stillness as the blade slowly sliced through the void. Everyone's heart and eyes went down with it.

What came from the tip of Qingo's weapon was a sword aura so powerful every single person could feel pressure. A pressure that anyone would mistake for a pier of hands firmly gripping not only their heart but lungs and throat and squeezing it.

Not a single one of them could say, with any certainty, that if they stood where Xasha stood, they had a 0.000000000001% chance of survival. Forget about them, any third or fourth wave cultivator standing where Xasha would still be sliced up like bread. Even with his strongest defense active. At this point, everyone in the vicinity looked at Qingo with a strong sense of fear and at Xasha with pity.