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myth

House Of Puppets

Arthur Moreau disappeared during a live broadcast. No warning. No transition. No last words. One moment he was finishing a world event in front of fifty thousand viewers. The next, he was gone, and what arrived somewhere else was Gepetto: his character, his creation, the most feared Marionettist ever built in a game where power was the only language that mattered. The world that caught him is not new to collapse. Gods have existed here, and some of them have died. What stands now is only the latest arrangement of a cycle that never needed him. Elysion is a Republic in the way that a cracked foundation is still a building. The institutions function. The titles exist. But beneath the gas lamps and the steam columns and the elevated rails connecting district to district, the actual structure is simpler: those with enough power do what they want, and everyone else absorbs the cost. The working class breathes chemical residue and calls it employment. The middle class negotiates in a market that has stopped rewarding negotiation, trains for credentials that no longer open doors, and moves forward because stopping is worse. There is no king here. There are only people with enough accumulated weight to act as though the question of permission does not apply to them. The Church of the Solar God holds the whole thing together, which is not a metaphor. A population that does not share language, origin, or history requires something to organize around, and the Church understood this long before anyone thought to ask. The Solar God is not a symbol. He walks. He acts. He has reasons of his own. And now, Players have begun to appear. Not as heroes. Not as chosen figures. As variables carrying power without understanding the system they have entered. The world does not pause for them. It absorbs them, bends around them, and continues. Gepetto does not try to fight it. He studies it. While others assert themselves through force, faith, or the assumption that visibility equals strength, he builds something quieter. Not an army. Not a faction. A structure: distributed, patient, invisible until it is not. A web that does not need to be seen to function. The skills are real now. The strings are real. And what they touch does not reset. House of Puppets is a story about control, belief, and the cost of acting in a world indifferent to your intentions. It follows a man who does not seek to win, but to understand the rules well enough that losing becomes unlikely. Because the puppeteer pulls the strings. But in a world this old, someone is always watching. A word from the author: House of Puppets is not a standard webnovel. Not power fantasy. You won't get that constant power escalation hit or that achievement system satisfaction. What you get is slow burn, structured more like a novel than serialized content. Each chapter accumulates. Each arc tightens. Tension builds and doesn't release until it's supposed to. The work touches on philosophy, politics, economy, metaphysics, theology. Everything woven into narrative, not explained to you. If you've already read Lord of Mysteries, Reverend Insanity, A Song of Ice and Fire, works that trust readers to hold complexity, you already know what we're trying to do here. The ambition is simple and honest: get there. Write something that redefines what this genre can do. I can't promise we make it. I'm a beginner without experience and this work is experimental. But I can promise I'll give everything I have trying.
MisterElegance · 128.4k Views

Shennong Dao Master

【Brand New Setting】【Fully Developed System】 When you awoke, you had become an official known as "Minister of Agriculture" in a fantasy game. "Dynasty's Prosperity" version: You diligently cultivated the "Seasonal Order," from "Harmonizing Winds and Rains" to "Summoning the Winds and Commanding the Rains," from "Bountiful Grain Harvests" to "All Things Flourish," commanding the seasons and quietly developing. You achieved minor successes, joined the army on expeditions, and controlled the "Four Books of Agriculture." You froze thousands of miles of great rivers to pave the way for the army. With "Miasma" you slew enemies, "Fog Shadow" obstructed tens of thousands of troops, establishing unparalleled military exploits and rising to the position of Director of Agriculture, secretly seizing the fate of the dynasty, all falling into your hands. "Spiritual Energy Resurgence" version: You nurtured "Mountain Spirits and Wild Creatures": Twin lotus make you invulnerable to both water and fire, the Seven Star Sword cools the light across Nineteen Provinces, Parasitic Species feeding on living beings, Void Species rooting in the void to absorb the Spiritual Energy of heaven and earth... You established an inner scenic area, cultivated immortal species, with "Grand Taiyi Lotus" replicating en masse! "Ancient Tree of Life" immortal and indestructible! "A true seed falls into the Dantian, can nurture spiritual sprouts for ten thousand years, one day when the cultivation is complete, my life is governed by me, not by the heavens!" "Heart fire shines like the sun, kidney water is the source, spleen stores earth, lungs refine through metal, liver sustains with qi. Using the body as the foundation, nurture original species, foster all laws, achieving the status of Shennong Dao Master !"
Mighty Colonel · 914.9k Views

Pawprints of Spilled Ink ( (潑墨的爪印)Pomo De Zhǎo Yìn)

Once, He Renxiao was a force to be reckoned with—a formidable general and the unrivaled cultivator within his sect, his strength challenged only by one: his revered Shixiong, Mo Shuyi. Ruled by duty, ambition, and unwavering loyalty, He Renxiao believed his path would end in glory. But not all stories could end in a happy way.. In an act of ultimate betrayal, Mo Shuyi mercilessly shattered He Renxiao’s cultivation core, leaving the male weak and helpless. Mo Shuyi didn’t stop with Renxiao alone, however. Their Shizun was taken captive, and He Renxiao himself became a prisoner—a mere pawn used by Mo Shuyi.. In the end, Mo Shuyi ended He Renxiao's life, but He Renxiao managed to kill him too.. But death failed to silence He Renxiao. It was funny, really. Against all odds, his spirit surged once more, this time awakening within a strange construct: the Isekai System named Yin Chen. He came back, inhabiting his younger self’s body, carrying the heavy weight of all he once lost—and the memories of betrayal that haunt his every thought. Before He Renxiao can gather his bearings, fate sweeps him up again. He is assigned on a long-term mission with his mutt Shixiong, kitty Shizun, and asshole half-brother. They are exposed to many complications and people who threaten to expose their secrets, placing their lives and honor on the line. In this crucible of trials, He Renxiao is forced to confront his past. Each encounter tests his resolve, compelling him to grow beyond the limits of his old self. With every challenge, He Renxiao sharpens his insight as he's determined to break the cycle of tragedy that consumed him. He will adapt, forge new bonds, and seize every chance to divert the disaster that awaits. Against the looming shadows of betrayal, He Renxiao is resolved to reclaim his destiny and expose those who threaten all he once cherished. This time, he refuses to fall. (THIS NOVEL IS CURRENTLY UNDER REVISION BECAUSE THE AUTHOR IS SLOW AND DECIDED LAST MINUTE THIS IS NOT THE DIRECTION HE WANTED HIS NOVEL TO GO IN)
XingfuDeDaotian · 28.7k Views

The Forgotten Genesis Sect

The Forgotten Genesis Sect In a young multiverse growing on one of the leaves of the Tree of the Beginning and the End, a quiet man lives alone in a ruined library. He writes books. Thousands of them. He believes every single one is a failure. Ash Lionheart cannot remember his own name or face. Mirrors refuse him. Still water warps him. Descriptions collapse into static before they can settle. He remembers the war that erased his home, the laughter of a civilization that refused to kneel, the scent of burning Palace halls, and the faces of those who died smiling. He remembers everything except the man at the center of it all. For ten years he has repaired shelves, cooked simple meals, and filled page after page in a desperate attempt to reconstruct himself. The books he calls failures contain cultivation paths capable of rewriting multiversal law, war records that contradict five hundred thousand years of official history, and the living doctrine of a sect that once terrified Heaven, Hell, gods, demons, and emperors alike: "No being is born to kneel." One storm-black night, a wounded Holy Daughter collapses at his gate, hunted by vagrant cultivators. She screams for help. Ash opens the door. To the world, he is a quiet library master in the wilderness the Rain Scholar, the Master of Failed Books, the Nameless Gatekeeper. To the girl he saves, he is an unfathomable hidden expert. To the ancient powers that still remember the Great War, his existence is a cosmic insult. The First Heavenly Genesis Sect was supposed to be gone. Its Palace erased. Its doctrine buried under five hundred millennia of carefully maintained lies. Yet the library is not a library. The books are not books. And the broken man who cannot see his own reflection is the last living ember of the most feared, most beloved, and most thoroughly murdered civilization in creation. As disciples begin to gather crippled geniuses, demon-blooded outcasts, cursed princesses, beastkin exiles, and the discarded of a world that measures worth by bloodline and Heaven’s approval the ruined halls start to wake. Jade slips choose their readers. The Broken Bell trembles. And every “failed” page Ash writes pulls a dead age one step closer to resurrection. The world has spent half a million years believing the Genesis Sect was a cautionary tale of chaos and corruption. It is about to discover the truth was far more dangerous: They taught freedom so completely that even Heaven looked optional. And the last disciple is still writing.
Ashborn_24 · 32.2k Views

Elden Ring: Que la Gracia del Sol nos Bañe

Mientras disfrutaba de una partida de Elden Ring, un accidente doméstico acabó con su vida de la forma más absurda posible: una electrocución. Cuando abrió los ojos de nuevo, ya no estaba en su mundo. Había renacido en las Tierras Intermedias, en una época remota conocida como la Era de la Luna y el Oro, despertando por casualidad la Gracia del Sol de Escanor. El problema era que el sol de este mundo llevaba incontables años sin ejercer su verdadero poder. Y eso era solo el principio. La maestra Sellen aún no había sido exiliada. Ranni aún conservaba su cuerpo. Rennala seguía siendo la brillante reina de Caria. Marika y Radagon todavía eran dos seres separados. Y un escenario mucho peor que cualquier "inicio infernal" estaba a nada de suceder: La Fragmentación. Cuando la desesperación lo estaba por consumir, Reinhard pronto tuvo una revelación. ¿Quién dijo que el poder del Sol dependía del Sol? Los hechizos de lava del Monte Gelmir, las llamas de los Gigantes de Fuego, la Llama Frenética... Si algo irradiaba luz y calor, entonces podía convertirse en el Sol ¿Verdad?. Con una enorme sonrisa, agarró por el cuello a Shabriri. —Pequeño e insignificante ser... dime dónde se encuentra el origen de la Llama Frenética. A partir de ese momento, la historia de las Tierras Intermedias cambió para siempre. Reinhard alcanzó la cima, derrotó a Radagon y le arrebató a Marika, profundizó los secretos de la hechicería junto a Sellen, salvó a Malenia de la Putrefacción Escarlata y, finalmente, alcanzo la felicidad con Ranni, Marika y otras chicas. Años después, bajo su reinado, las Tierras Intermedias conocieron una era de prosperidad jamás vista. Un mundo donde la oscuridad retrocedía y el calor del Sol volvía a abrazar a todos. ¡El Sol es un astro magnífico! ¡Dejad que su gloriosa incandescencia os envuelva!"
R1CHT0FEN · 19.7k Views