venerable_amon

Meet Amon, a self-proclaimed disaster with a title to match: "Amon, the Calamity." At 17, he’s a walking embodiment of mediocrity in a world brimming with prodigies. Amon can barely cook rice without committing culinary manslaughter.

But Amon isn’t giving up. With dreams of power, fame, and maybe even proving everyone wrong, he devises a master plan. Along the way, he’s armed with a sharp tongue, questionable morals, and just enough delusion to keep going.

Will he rise above his title, or will his chaotic antics make the world regret underestimating him? Either way, it’s going to be a hilarious ride.



https://www.royalroad.com/profile/633230/fictions

Amon: The Lowest Tier Disciple of Sanctity Sect

I'm literally so low, I'm considering asking the floor to be my best friend. Solid, reliable, always there for me. Honestly, it's already doing a better job than most people in life. At least the floor doesn't call me "Amon, the failure" to my face.

Meanwhile, Donny-oh, Donny-is out there being a prodigy. A literal Saint-rank mage at 12 years old? That guy's a walking cheat code. I'm 17, and I can't even figure out how to boil rice without creating a small house fire. Life's not fair, but hey, who needs fairness when you've got... uh, whatever it is that I've got.

Then it happens. Donny decides to show off by summoning a literal storm. The air starts crackling, the ground trembles, and I'm pretty sure the sky is reconsidering its life choices. Meanwhile, I'm standing here like, "Yeah, no big deal," while secretly praying not to die. Honestly, I'm not even sure Donny meant to summon the storm. He might've just been sneezing.

But one thing's clear-I want that power. The kind that makes the world take a step back and go, "Whoa, maybe we shouldn't call him a 'failure' anymore." Yeah, I know what they say about me. Amon, the idiot. Real creative, guys. I've got dreams, okay?

Step 1: Find treasure. Not just any treasure. The kind that makes you OP like in those generic novels. You know, the glowing kind with ominous text that says something like, "Only the chosen one shall wield me." Spoiler: I'm not the chosen one.

Step 2: Become stronger. Preferably with zero effort involved because hard work is overrated. I mean, sure, lifting weights might help me build muscle, but have you ever tried lifting your existential dread? Much heavier.

Step 3: Betray everyone who ever said my hair looked bad. (Still salty about that, by the way. Who even comments on a guy's hair during a fight? Focus on the fireball coming your way, Janet.)

Step 4: Steal stuff. But, like… don't get caught. I have my limits. I'm not some chaotic thief; I'm a strategic borrower.

Step 5: Find a teacher. Not a good one just someone gullible enough to think I'm trying. Bonus points if they have snacks.

Step 6: Somehow become the strongest and have a harem. Not sure how yet. Probably involves pretending I had morals all along. Maybe I'll give a moving speech about friendship or something before tripping into a victory.

Also, can someone teach me how to cook? Seriously, the rice thing is getting embarrassing. I tried again yesterday, and now there's a patch of grass outside that refuses to grow. I'm pretty sure I created poison instead of food.

Disaster in the making