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Rebirth of the Nameless Immortal God

Earth has undergone an odd change. Expanding by millions of times its original size, its population was suddenly split into two halves. On one side, there was a group of technologically advanced humans. But, on the other, a world of cultivation had grown and pospered. The secrets that led to this change have been hidden in the darkness for too long... Until there came a day where a boy born on the Mortal side of the world was found to have the talent to enter the Martial side. Having lost both of his parents to a hidden tide, he chose to leave all that he had known behind and enter this land of danger. What truths would he unveil? What would he learn about what separated the Mortals from the Cultivators? What hidden evils wanted to ensure that his people never rose up and gained power? And how would those evils... deal with him? ---- This list of things I hate is quite long. The first is that I hate to be tested the most. The second is that I hate to be tested the most. The third also happens to be that I hate to be tested the most. The ocean's depths are too shallow, the sun's light too dim, the ground too mundane and the skies too small. For those born of this colorless world to deem themselves worthy of casting judgement on me... I can only say that it's laughable. I am the Nameless Immortal God because even the Heavens themselves are unworthy to name me. Even while I am unaware of my own identity, I will dry the oceans until cracked land is all that is left, I will cast the sun into endless darkness, I will shatter the ground with my feet and sunder the skies with my blade. Am I too arrogant? What right do you have to think that? --- https://discord.gg/awespec

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2334 Chs

Poignant

Dyon soul began to grow. First it was a baby of no more than a few months old, but then its position began to change…

It soon became a toddler of about two years old, turning itself to sit upright in a position of meditation.

As Dyon's soul shifted its position, one of the seemingly impossible to break crystalline chains shattered without resistance, sending Dyon's chest into yet another violent pulse.

For the first time in more than a week, Dyon's mind cleared.

He didn't receive some magical answer, nor did he find some nonsensical boost in morale to push him past his thoughts. If he had to be realistic, he still felt that Chaos was inevitable, that there was no beauty to be found in it and that a tragic ending was all that lay in wait for them all.

The reason he had pulled out wasn't because he thought things would get better, but because of one thing and one thing only: Responsibility.