A Transmigrator’s Privilege - Chapter 114

[Your shadow is alive.][Feed your shadow, devour souls, level up, gain skills, complete quests, and grow stronger.][Do you wish to view your current stats?]In the magical world of Aetherus, Damon Grey is the weakest student at Aether Academy, relentlessly bullied and ridiculed for his lack of power and defiant personality. Yet, he endures the torment, clinging to his scholarship—the only thing providing him with the funds to keep his sick sister alive.After a brutal attack leaves him near death, Damon encounters a dark viscous entity in the forest that fuses with his shadow, awakening the Living Shadow System. This strange power grants him unimaginable abilities but comes with a grim cost—a relentless hunger for souls and flesh to feed his shadow.Now, with his shadow alive and insatiable, Damon faces a terrible choice: feed it to grow stronger or starve it and die with it.In a world ruled by ruthless nobles, deadly monsters, and power-hungry demons, Damon must decide if his newfound power is a curse or the only way to survive. With the Living Shadow System, his fate is clear: devour or be devoured.

A half-orc with a hulking body filled with perfect muscles and a handsome face stands carrying a great axe over one shoulder.

His neon blue eyes watching the void, waiting for those that would threaten his world.

Huge creatures with monstrous figures, beasts of the abyss, here to kill the orc.

Their angered shrieks and pained screams filled the air.

The corpses of these monsters surround his body, forming his throne of dread.

His long tail smashed down, turning them into pulp while using his brutal axe with powerful chops, cleaving them into pieces.

“This world shall become ours; you cannot stop our legion! Orc!” a distorted and evil voice sounded.

“WATCH ME!” Shouted the orc, filled with confidence and pride.

In defiance, a purple mist shrouded him as he transformed into a monster himself, with long gryphon wings and sharp horns from his head—a hulking muscular body and legs filled with thick scales and black hooves.

Bang!

The orc stepped forward, his heart burning with passion and desire as he bellowed with a demonic and distorted voice.

“I am the Sovereign of Dread, foul Daemons. This is MY world! Return to your wasteland to rot, or DIE!”

He was a manticore, the only male manticore ever to exist.

He fights not for power.

Not for glory!

Alistair “Raven” Granbell fights only for his beloved women and because he LOVES to fight the strong and crush them under his axe Mor'vaal and prove he deserves his Dread Sovereign title.

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Only thanks to his dual cultivation technique, “The Twelves Gates of Bliss”, could he attain those heights.

Because in the distant past, he was merely an above-average half-orc, thanks to his cultivation technique and lucky encounter. He suddenly stepped on the path to becoming a powerful Chimaera after receiving a special reward in his first dungeon.

However, dual cultivation with monster girls could only improve his new reward. He could only advance so far with combat alone!

The planet Almos I entered a stage of development 400 years ago when strange monoliths appeared.

Unknown races and mystical beings emerged from inside, bringing the magical existence known as [Mana] and [Magic] with them.

Over countless years various races and humanity melded together after generations of war and chaos; now, you could find goblins serving as accountants and orcs working as policemen.

With the dawn of rapid progress, they created an occupation for those seeking to explore these monoliths.

[Adventurers]

Adventurers would delve deep into the mysterious monoliths, which were given new names to match the Adventurers.

They were called [Dungeons] due to their nature being identical to those found in the home worlds of the races that transferred to Almos I.

It was a mystical world of Magic and modern technology coming to life!

Alistair Granbell, a half-orc born to a beautiful orc mother and human father, led a dull but stable life, working as a salesman to support his beloved through college.

However, deep down, his heart always wanted more; he desired to become more.

The trigger was a stupid fight with his beloved girlfriend as he decided to throw away his old way of life and chose instead to pursue a life as an adventurer.

He would take the name Raven to honour his late mother and father, stepping on the road to becoming an unstoppable and feared existence for his enemies.

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Buried alive. Forgotten by the world. Cursed to refine death itself.Rin Xie clawed his way out of his own grave with nothing but broken nails, shattered bones, and a core pulsing with rot. In a world where the heavens punish the wicked with celestial fire, where death cultivators are hunted like beasts, Rin awakens with a forbidden path—one that feeds on pain, suffering, and the ashes of the dead.He cannot heal. He cannot forget. But every wound, every betrayal, every death he witnesses becomes fuel for his ascension.Under a crimson eclipse, he walks through battlefields where spirits still scream. In deserts of bone, he consumes lotus flowers blooming from despair. He learns techniques the heavens sealed away in fear—Soul Wither Pulse, Requiem Bloom, Grief Reclamation.But the deeper he dives into death, the less human he becomes.He no longer cries for the fallen.He no longer prays for peace.He begins to wonder—what kind of death should he become?In a world where power devours morality, Rin Xie will either become the end of all things...Or something worse.

Every novel has a slag character, the one who decides to abandon the protagonist at his lowest, most helpless point, either because he can’t stand the poor guy’s circumstances or for other reasons. But after the protagonist wins his way in life again, they’re the ones who beg with broken sobs to be taken back.

Still, water once spilled can’t be recovered again.

Yet the unlucky Shen Jiayan has been bound to a Water Recovery* System to do just that.

*water recovery – comes from an idiom that means “spilled water can’t be recovered” (English equivalent: there’s no use crying over spilt milk).

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