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Necromancer: The Angel Of Darkness

SOLACE
Born of blood and yet so disgusted by the sight of it, that was Sephtis, the greatest necromancer the heavens would ever know and also it's greatest nightmare to come. Sephtis, a being who was most surely not human but neither was he a demon nor a beast, hating the sight of blood yet there exists no greater master in the art of slaughter than he. His ever growing army razing down cities, countries, continents, entire worlds and eventually perhaps everything else. He was the definition of a nightmare, his name alone scaring even shadows away and his presence leaving nothing but destruction everywhere it touches. And to the world's greatest surprise something incredible had happened, the unstoppable force had vanished from the surface of the world one day with no explanation nor answer as to his whereabouts. The world finally knew peace, the gods were praised for an entire month straight for answering their prayers, losing themselves in wine, music, food and carnal desire, this was heaven. But as always peace is never a long-lived thing, Darkness is never really truly gone, only just temporarily withheld and the greatest nightmare in history would be returning once more, this time so much greater than ever before and making sure that he completes his mission without fail.
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I Can Copy And Evolve Talents

Across the vast convolution of worlds, divine beings rule as absolute sovereigns—each god assigned dominion over a singular realm. Skirmishes are inevitable, whether for power, amusement, or sheer pettiness. One such battle, between Nexus, the God of Trickery, and an aging, senile deity, resulted in an anomaly… A soul misplaced. Elliot, an ordinary man, was never meant for Ul’Tra-el. But fate, or perhaps a cosmic prank, had other plans. Unlike other worlds, Ul’Tra-el is an aberration—one that developed a voice. A voice that diverged from the natural order. A voice that changed everything. Its foundation cracked, leaking dimensions into one another. Rifts tore open like festering wounds, vomiting forth unspeakable horrors—monsters not meant to exist. But the world did not sit idly by. In response—perhaps an act of self-preservation—the world gifted its inhabitants power. Talents awakened, granting people extraordinary abilities. And for every rift sealed, the Voice of Ul rewarded them generously. Survival was simple: fight, grow stronger, and close the rifts… or die trying. In this ruthless, blood-soaked reality, Northern—a white-haired boy burdened by his past life—was reincarnated. But unlike the chosen heroes, he awakened as a talentless nobody. No power. No strength. No future. And when death loomed over him—when despair clawed at his soul and the cold grip of the failure threatened to take him— A Voice responded: [System Notice] [Your Soul cannot take a form.] [Searching for a Unique Pattern Ability…] [Searching…] [Search Found.] [A Unique System Ability has been detected.] [You Can Copy And Evolve Talents] ... Follow Northern through his journey as he becomes the pinnacle of this world. This a story about a white-haired boy’s rise from rubbles!! Note: This is an overpower genre but MC does not just start off like that. Even though MC can copy talents he doesn't just jump around copying talents because there's a limitation. However, his rise to strength is depicted and is an experience to enjoy. The first few hundreds would be frustrating to follow because MC is weak but that makes the experience all the more interesting when MC finally gets freaking strong and starts wiping the floor with everyones asses.
RighteousFilth · 3.6m Views

Apocalypse: Transmigrated with an Overlord System

Liora had everything, silk gowns softer than clouds, and eleven royal brothers who treated her like a jewel. Her days were filled with naps and banquets, her biggest worry being whether sapphire blue matched better with her crown than royal gold. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. One night, she fell asleep in her warm bed with wine in her hand. The next, she woke up in a nightmare. A world ravaged by zombies. Smoke and ash filled the air. The ground was stained with blood. Her palace? Gone. Her servants? Gone. Her status? Worthless. The only thing that remained? Her will to survive. With no training, no supplies, and no clue how to swing a weapon, she was thrown straight into the depths of hell, until a cold mechanical voice echoed in her mind. [Welcome, Host. You have activated the Overlord System.] It sounded powerful, promising... until she learned the truth. She had no abilities, no resources, and a system that cared more about giving her impossible missions and drowning her in cosmic debt than helping her stay alive. While others awakened fire or telekinesis, she was stuck dodging Level 2 zombies with nothing but her fists and pure desperation. Every fight was a gamble. Every step forward cost blood, sweat, or worse—sanity. Yet she rose. She built her own base from scratch. Controlled supplies. Built a black market network in the ruins. People started to follow her, fear her, and even rely on her. And then he showed up. The aloof, deadly awakened one who never cared for others—until her. With piercing eyes and unmatched power, he could destroy armies. But when he tried to get close, to protect her, to understand her, Liora was too busy reinforcing her walls and negotiating food rations to entertain his brooding charm. He said he wanted to fight beside her. She said, "Unless you're here to dig trenches or clear zombies, move aside." He brought her rare supplies—medicine, clean water, even a working generator. She didn’t blink. "Bribing me with electricity? Cute. Now get in line with the others if you want shelter." Because in this world, there was no room for love when survival was still uncertain. But love, like the undead, is persistent. Trigger Warning: Violence, Gore, System Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Romantic Tension.
Violet_Melody99 · 142.7k Views