Unholy_Dragon_God

"My Fate, My Hands, The Heavenly Dao will not squeeze me down a pathetic path to my doom."

Long Wei, the young master and crown prince of the Imperial Haven Empire, faces a challenging path to greatness. Despite being blessed with incredible talents like the Void Dragon-Phoenix God bloodline, Eternal Void Meridians, Transcendent Dao Physique, and Heaven Shrouding Eyes, he finds himself at odds with the Heavenly Dao. It feels as though fate is mocking him.

As Long Wei strives to reach the top, he encounters adversaries who rise from obscurity, armed with unimaginable artifacts and abilities that rival his own. Enemies, hailing from the future aim to thwart his plans and bring about his downfall. System Wielders seek to exploit his talents for their own gains, while Transmigrators are determined to put an end to him. Additionally, he must confront his own set of enemies and ancient monsters who covet his talents to advance their own cultivation.

To achieve godhood, Long Wei must delve deep within himself and face perilous battles, intricate schemes, and mysterious secrets that trace back to the ancient Chaos Era—the very beginning of the Myriad Realms. His success depends solely on his own determination, as the Heavens have turned their back on him.

Will Long Wei overcome the dangers that lie ahead, or will he succumb to the doom that awaits him?.

I'm a Young Master, so what?

Long Wei remained seated, the dragon tattoo winding around his back pulsed with golden light. He exhaled as white turbid qi expelled from his mouth, taking with it all the pain that had been stacking against his Mindscape.

His Mindscape had changed. Its space was still infinite to his senses, but its center, where his Heavenly Palace lay, was something to behold. His primary Heavenly Palace stood tall, towering into the vast endless skies tinged with blue, displaying its twelve-floor grandeur.

A large dragon wound its thick, scaly body around each floor, pulsing with the purest form of Void Qi available to a mortal being.

Its body snaked all the way to the top, mouth wide open, seemingly trying to swallow his Nascent Soul. From his Heavenly Palace, which was the center of his Mindscape, twelve new pathways jittered outwards, extending a hundred kilometers in twelve directions before stopping.

Saints Row