Aurelius_Imperator

[WPC DEC & JAN 2023 [Fantasy] WINNER!]

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[Talent: Future Seer]

The path to immortality is always a cruel one to tread.

In a world where the Wizard reigns supreme and spells are everything.

Watch Aur’s journey as he walks down the path of immortality, albeit not in a conventional manner.

Muscles!

With the muscle system in hand, he forges a path for himself, slaughtering all his enemies with a punch. But in this world filled with schemes, can he reach the pinnacle or will he perish falling into the spiral of schemes?

……

[Scene from the Novel]

"Aren't you supposed to be an ordinary wizard? How are you so strong?" The man muttered as the very earth crumbled, and the mountains behind him split with the sheer pressure of the giant fist descending on him. 

There was no surprise the man was crushed into meat paste. Aur looked at the distant sun. 

"Throughout Heaven and Earth, I have the strongest muscle," Aur shouted as countless shadows appeared in the corner of his vision.

“You are going to die today,” The tone was cold and unforgiving, with countless figures appearing one by one. 

“You cannot re-establish the Laws of this universe again.”



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A super gift for 5 bonus chapters.

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#no ntr #no yuri #no bl

My Muscle System in the Mage World

"Hmm, the power is not bad, but that's all it can do?" Aur asked, his gaze fixed on the Rat King, now tightly restrained in Stella's grip.

"There's a close combat feature as well, Master," Stella replied, a sly grin playing across her lips.

Without hesitation, she shoved the cramped body of the Rat King forward and gave its rear a sharp pat.

A grotesque transformation began. The Rat King's veins bulge, swelling to the point of nearly bursting through its skin. Its body trembled, and its size began to shrink, compressing unnaturally. Inch by inch, the towering figure diminished, its height collapsing until it was no larger than a medium sword.

Then came the sickening transformation.

A wave of purplish liquid erupted from its body, a vile, viscous substance that gushed and splattered to the ground in thick streams, forming putrid purple-green puddles. The sound was wet, revolting, like flesh being torn and reformed.

Chainsaw always beats a Sword