Time Reaper: Rise Of The Blood Monarch
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I was sixteen when the gods abandoned me.
The Blessing Ritual was supposed to grant me power, a divine gift to carve my future. Instead, I received nothing. No abilities. No hope. Just another nameless soul left to rot in a world ruled by strength.
Fine. If the gods wouldn’t bless me, I’d make my own power.
For ten years, I clawed my way forward, experimenting with forces no human should touch. I pushed too far—and it killed me.
Then I woke up.
Sixteen again. Back at the Ritual. But this time, something changed.
Time bends at my will. Blood moves when I command it.
The gods still won’t acknowledge me, but it doesn’t matter. This world isn’t fair, and I’ve stopped playing by its rules. Faith and Chaos clash in my veins, and I will use them both.
They wanted a Chosen Hero, someone to dance to their tune.
Well, too bad for them—I’ll carve my own fate.
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Listen, I don’t know what kind of divine enlightenment the author achieved before writing this book, but I’m convinced he ascended to a higher plane of existence, met the gods, slapped them in the face, and came back to bless us mortals with peak fiction. From the moment I started reading, I felt my IQ skyrocketing. My third eye opened. My spine straightened. My posture went from goblin mode to Greek statue in seconds. The prose? Crisp. The world-building? Immaculate. The plot twists? Had me gasping like a fish out of water. Every chapter ended with me gripping my phone like it owed me money, whispering, “Just one more…” until the sun came up. And don’t even get me started on the main character. Kyoji is HIM. The GOAT. The blueprint. This man walks into a room, and reality itself holds its breath. His abilities? Busted. His personality? Flawless. His plans? So far ahead that even the author is just along for the ride. I’m convinced Kyoji doesn’t even need to fight—he could just stand there, and the enemies would be like, “Yeah, nah, I’m good” before disintegrating out of pure respect. The action scenes? Cinematic. Every battle had me reenacting moves in my living room like I was in a martial arts training montage. The tension? So thick you could cut it with one of Kyoji’s blood blades. Honestly, this book ruined me. How am I supposed to go back to reading normal stories after experiencing this masterpiece? Everything else feels like caveman scribbles compared to this magnum opus. I need the sequel. I need the spin-offs. I need the author to be legally required to write ten chapters a day. Final verdict: 11/10. If you haven’t read this yet, what are you even doing with your life?