At the forefront stood a row of red-eyed "humans," each gripping an unusually long staff.
The plump lord quickly spotted a familiar face among them—though much thinner, the familiar features were unmistakably those of his son.
"Armstrong Evan Liberty Dan! What are you doing?!"
Nearby, Fang Zhiyi nearly choked on the apple in his mouth. So the kid hadn’t lied—that stone of a name really was that long!
The ghoul merely stared at him with empty eyes.
The lord sensed something amiss. "You—you’re an evil army! Guards! Guards!"
His castle still housed many guards, but at that moment, they were all frozen in fear.
"My lord, look at the sky," one guard stammered.
The lord raised his head. A massive figure circled above, resembling a dragon. A dragon? The lord was stunned. Weren’t such creatures supposed to dwell in the north? And that thing in the sky… was it just a skeleton?
The skeletal dragon let out a hoarse, grating roar, and the undead army below began advancing.
That day, news of the Neke family’s fall reached the royal capital. Rumor had it that their territory was now overrun with undead. The royal family was thrown into chaos, scrambling to convene the Church of Light and the Mage Association for emergency talks—only for more dire news to arrive.
The noble tasked with resisting the orcs had fled the battlefield, allowing the orcs to march unopposed, now dangerously close to the capital.
The gray-haired old king was frantic. "What do we do? A necromancer has appeared, and the orcs are at our gates! What do we do?"
Vivian watched her panicked father with quiet contemplation. So this was what Fang Zhiyi would have done if he hadn’t been imprisoned? Even now, she didn’t see him as a threat—just a pitiful fool who’d do anything for her. She offered her suggestion.
"Recruit the necromancer?" The old king hesitated. "No, no! Necromancers are the most vile of mages—they bring only disaster and ruin!"
Vivian fell silent. Staring at her father, she decided he was unfit for the throne—and her foolish older brother was no better. She resolved to write Fang Zhiyi a letter.
While the necromancer remained inactive, the orcs arrived at the city walls.
The Mage Association, the Royal Knights, and the Church of Light all deployed their forces to hold the line. For now, the high walls kept the orcs at bay.
Fang Zhiyi, meanwhile, watched the battle unfold through his familiar, Little Black.
"So many corpses… what a waste. Oh, now that’s a nice one."
"So they could’ve defended themselves all along, yet they still dragged the original host into helping them. Bunch of scoundrels."
Lily’s father, however, had a stroke of luck. His severe injuries kept him from joining the city’s defense, sparing his life. But an orc raiding party was now charging toward the slums.
The slum-dwellers fled in terror, none daring to resist. Yet the wolf-riders suddenly halted, sensing something amiss.
From the far end of the street came the sound of disciplined marching. The orc leader barked an order, then gaped in shock.
An endless tide of skeletons advanced in perfect formation, wielding broken blades and shields. Behind them shambled mindless zombies. At the center sat a man atop a chair woven from bones, carried aloft by skeletal bearers.
The stench of death—something orcs despised.
"You… what do you want?" the orc leader managed in broken human speech.
Fang Zhiyi waved a hand. "Don’t mind me. Just passing through. But…" He gestured behind him. "You can’t go that way." Not far beyond lay Lily’s home.
Those who hadn’t escaped despaired. One recognized Fang Zhiyi. "You’re Fang Zhiyi! You’re powerful—save us!"
Fang Zhiyi regarded him coldly. "Not interested."
Confused but emboldened, the orcs tested the waters by killing one human. When Fang Zhiyi didn’t react, they began their slaughter.
Yet every corpse was promptly hauled away by his skeletal minions.
The orc leader didn’t protest. He’d spotted the skeletal dragon lurking nearby—his instincts screamed that thing was beyond their ability to fight.
So the orc warband left as swiftly as they’d come, even leaving survivors in their wake.
"We’re saved!" Some wept with joy.
"Bastard! Fang Zhiyi, rot in hell!" A woman screamed, lunging for her husband’s corpse.
"Think you’ve misunderstood something," Fang Zhiyi said flatly. With a flick of his wrist, his bone-chair bearers turned away, while the remaining skeletons marched forward, blades raised.
As screams erupted behind him, Fang Zhiyi felt nothing. They all deserved it.
Passing Lily’s home, he saw her waving through the window—until her mother yanked her inside and slammed the shutters.
Fang Zhiyi sighed.
The orc main force learned of the necromancer’s presence. Though he hadn’t hindered them, their advance stalled out of caution, giving the defenders brief respite. But scouts soon reported the undead army had vanished.
So the war between orcs and humans reignited.
Without the necromancer’s aid, the capital’s defense teetered on collapse—until three archmages sacrificed their lives to unleash a forbidden spell, tipping the scales.
Corpses were buried where they fell; shattered walls were repaired. But this time, neither Vivian nor Rhein claimed glory. Without Fang Zhiyi’s contrast, Vivian was just another princess tending wounded, Rhein merely a foot soldier.
Fang Zhiyi replied to Vivian’s letter, claiming injuries prevented him from helping now—but he’d always be there when needed. Satisfied, Vivian wrote back. Fang Zhiyi’s prompt response reiterated his loyalty. Reading it, she smirked. Fragile necromancer. In her past life, she’d found his notebook detailing every necromantic spell and its toll. All necromancers were frail. And to unleash an undead apocalypse? That cost one’s life.
As the fires of war dimmed, refugees returned home.
Yet in the Mage Association, debates raged about that vile necromancer. Scouts reported his territory now radiated such death that even sunlight refused to touch it.
and couldn't return to the real world. Finally, I gave up and decided to go with the flow, only to discover that writing a diary could make me stronger. Since no one could read it, Su Luo wrote freely, daring to pen anything and everything. Female Lead #1: "Not bad. This diary helped me steal all the protagonist's opportunities. I just want to get stronger." Female Lead #2: "I don’t care about reaching the peak of the cultivation world. Right now, I just want to enjoy the chaos." Female Lead #3: "What? Everyone around me is a spy? I’m the Joker Demon Lord?" ... It’s so strange. Why is the plot completely off track, yet the ending remains the same? Are you all just messing with me?!
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
