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1.91% Reborn as an OP Sect Master of an Evil Sect / Chapter 2: Chapter 2 Path

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 Path

Seated upon his majestic throne, an air of tranquility enveloped our op mc, the master of unrivaled abilities and prowess. 

Amidst the opulence of his domain, a singular thought pervaded his mind like an unbidden guest. 

"Why do I find such an inexplicable sense of comfort in merely sitting here for hours? This is becoming rather peculiar," he muttered under his breath, sensing an uncanny resonance with Nero's timeless demeanor. 

Despite the brevity of his own existence, the weight of Nero's eons as an immortal cultivator seemed to echo through his very being. Even his way of speech was slowly getting remodeled.

Lost in this contemplative state, an abrupt interruption shattered the silence, a jarring "DING!" that pierced the serene atmosphere and reached his ears alone.

"Congratulations, dear host!" echoed a sweet yet enigmatic voice—a charming, ethereal loli hidden from view. 

"The heavens have bestowed upon you a monumental boon, a gift to shape your new existence. Should your heart yearn for ascension to the exalted God Realm, a singular mission beckons, awaiting your skillful completion. Please consult the system for a comprehensive elucidation of your quest," she announced, her words carrying an otherworldly weight.

This unexpected intrusion disrupted the tranquility of his reverie, leaving him to ponder the implications of this divine bestowment amid the opulent stillness of his throne room.

"Show me my status," commanded our op mc, his voice resonating with authority within the confines of his chamber.

In response, a resounding "DING!" reverberated through the room, heralding the appearance of an ethereal display.

* * * 

Name: Adrian Sinclair, Nero Deathbinder

Cultivation: 10th Stage of True Immortal Realm 

Influence: Sect Master of Immortal Soul Sect 

Mission: 1

* * * 

These succinct declarations materialized, hovering before our mc's piercing gaze. With a mere mental prompt, he delved further, selecting the mission function to unveil additional intricacies.

The subsequent revelation unfolded:

Mission: Embark on the daunting endeavor to gather and establish a harem of precisely 100 women, a task quite unlike any other

Reward: 1st Stage cultivation base within the exalted God Realm

* * *

The gravity of the task at hand lingered in the air, the weight of the mission contrasting sharply with the tranquil ambiance of our op mc's opulent chamber. 

The mandate posed a challenge, one that seemed to test not just his abilities but also his principles and beliefs.

In the chamber's dimly lit grandeur, Adrian's incredulous exclamation pierced the air, filling the space with a blend of shock and reluctant acceptance. 

"Well, by all that's divine, am I truly expected to forge a path adorned with a harem just to find my way back to Earth?" The words escaped his lips, laden with a mix of disbelief and resignation, resonating within the opulent confines of his surroundings.

The revelation struck him deeply, stirring a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions. 

While his rational mind acknowledged the reliability of system pronouncements from his extensive readings of web novels in his youth, the sheer incredulity of the task imposed upon him lingered like an unshakable weight.

In his earlier years, he'd delved into countless narratives where system-driven directives rarely wavered from their course. 

Yet, despite this knowledge, the notion of assembling a harem of a hundred women felt as preposterous as it did unsettling. 

Our op mc's brows furrowed in contemplation as he grappled with the stark incongruity between the system's mandate and his own deeply ingrained values.

The very concept of surrounding himself with such a multitude of companions felt foreign and discordant to his sensibilities. 

It wasn't merely the sheer number that unsettled him but the ethical implications and complexities such an endeavor would entail. 

The dichotomy between the task at hand and his moral compass left him adrift in a sea of uncertainty, grappling with a fate that seemed inconceivable and yet unyielding.

In the midst of his profound contemplation, the sagacious Dark Lord remained oblivious to the presence already delving into the recesses of his thoughts.

"Oh, look at this. The mighty Dark Lord seems troubled. Could this be the first crack in the impenetrable facade of the greatest to ever wield darkness in these lands? One wonders if the countless trillions and trillions you've spent cultivating have gifted you even a modicum of enlightenment," the voice intruded, its youthful tone juxtaposed with a mocking edge that lingered like a whispered echo.

"Ah, young master Dante, has it truly been that extensive a span? It feels like a mere blink since I ensnared your soul, fashioning your corporeal form into my puppet. Time is a fickle companion indeed," chuckled our protagonist, his voice laced with a peculiar blend of reminiscence and wry humor.

"Despite the passage of epochs, you've yet to completely refine me. My dao heart remains steadfast, resolute in its eternal existence," Dante responded, his voice a calm contrast to the tension in the air.

"It's a matter of inevitability. Even if my attempts falter, your true essence will reside within the confines of my soul space for as long as my breath persists. However, I must commend the enigmatic technique of your clan. Few possess the capability to forge a unshakable dao heart as firm as yours," our op protagonist acknowledged with a note of admiration. 

Young master Dante stood solitary, the lone survivor of Nero Deathbinder's certain killing—a testament to the unshakeable resilience of Dante's eternal dao heart, a phenomenon that had withstood the annals of time and the grasp of even the most powerful of true immortals.

"...," a protracted silence followed, signaling the conclusion of their discourse. 

In response, our op protagonist heightened his vigilance, fortifying mental barriers to shield his thoughts and actions from Dante's intrusive probing in the external realm.

"It appears that I'm destined to gather a harem of 100 wives," our protagonist sighed resignedly, acknowledging the unusual demand imposed upon him. 

This world, not inherently his own, had become a confining cage, and his sole aspiration remained to devise an escape route back to the realm he considered home. 

With a heart heavy with the weight of an unfamiliar destiny, he resolved to navigate this foreign landscape, weaving a path toward liberation and a return to the familiarity he craved.


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The_Procrastinator The_Procrastinator

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