Eternal Love: A Love Story - Chapter 5 - Charming?

The formless ancient world was infested with despicable demons. They hunted and feasted on mankind, keeping the human civilization constantly in a weak and suppressed state.

During the first known year, a magical mountain descended into the world from the realm of the Gods. Carved on this enormous mountain was a message: ‘Heaven Prevails’…

After the Grand Descent, a name that was given to the descending of the mountain, the Three Great Sages made their ways to Mystic Mountain where they learned to harvest what we now call magic, establishing the Mystic Cults and eighty-one sacred shrines to help aid mankind with the cult’s mystic powers against the eternal fight to the death with demons.

- Description from Novelupdates

Rowan was just a broke college dropout—until he was summoned to another world.Dragged into the war-torn realm of Laronia, Rowan stands beside four other chosen heroes, each blessed by prophecy… except him.While the others awaken to legendary powers and divine roles, Rowan receives a blank grimoire. No magic. No title. No future.Cast aside and marked a failure, he prepares for death—until the silence inside his grimoire begins to speak.The gods made a mistake. And this world is not ready for what lies beneath the Wordless Mage.

This story revolves around a boy who was sent to a dark, mysterious parallel world in the body of his beautiful senior sister known as Lily. The lone girl ran into the night parade of a hundred ghosts the very day she arrived; seeking survival amongst the warrior’s dispute in a chaotic world, and forging her own demon sword! This is an unimaginable other world adventure!

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.”