MTL - The Divine Nine-Dragon Cauldron - Chapter 2931 Unexpected

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.

In the waves of steam and machinery, who could achieve extraordinary? In the fogs of history and darkness, who was whispering? I woke up from the realm of mysteries and opened my eyes to the world.

Bound together by an imperial arranged marriage, Li Yuyan is scorned for her association with the ill and blind crown prince. Publicly, she stands up for the seemingly gentle and perfect prince, and he in turn protects her from criticism. Privately, she contemplates inheriting a fortune if he dies, while he considers eliminating her if she steps out of line. Unknown to all, the beauty and brilliance they keep hidden will unveil. During their wedding night, as she cures his blindness and cold ailment, but not his secret illness, she discovers the deceit. Realizing she's been tricked, she tries to flee, only to find herself trapped by him as he expresses his fascination with her.

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.”