Reincarnated With A System In A Cultivation World - Chapter 319 A Conclusion

After an unexpected accident, An Luo was reborn as the young master of a business family. Even as his grandfather’s favored grandson, he seems to only be a cannon fodder in the brothers’ struggle to seize power. However, the most frightening thing is… the strange emotions that flicker in his little brother’s eyes as he looks at him. At that moment, overwhelmed by his brother, An Luo angrily thought: Could it be that he is doomed to never escape this vicious cycle of “brotherly love”?

An Luo(frowning): After rebirth, I don’t want to be together with some strange person.

Someone(suddenly appearing in the back, smiling): What did older brother just say?

An Luo: …Nothing.

- Description from Novelupdates

Growing up parentless, Shi Yan, who was left with a large inheritance money, bore a general disinterest in life.

The only times he felt alive was when adrenaline coursed thorough his veins. He quickly found that extreme sports, bungyjumping, cave diving & skydiving, gave him the biggest kicks. The bigger the adrenaline kick, the closer he was to death, the more alive he felt.

Waking up in a pile of dead bodies in an unknown land, after a diving adventure had ended disastrously, he quickly realizes the body he now possessed was not his own.

Follow Shi Yan as he explores this new world where danger lurks around every corner, and death is only a breath away; a world in which Shi Yan could not feel any more alive.

- Description from novelupdates

Han Muye, who had exceptional comprehension skills, was reborn into a cultivation world. He joined a clan which specialized in swordsmanship. He then became the keeper who looked after the swords in the Swords Pavilion.

There were more than 100,000 swords stored in the pavilion. The keeper was tasked to clean all of them once a month.

When Han Muge cleaned the Qinghe sword, he acquired a hint of Sword Qi.

When he cleaned the Ziyan sword, he comprehended the swordsmanship, the Burning Plain, left behind by the original owner of the sword. He also acquired the Sword Qi of Burning Flame.

When he cleaned the Shanyue sword, he comprehended the teachings left behind by Master Boulder and learned the Mountain Sword Technique.

…

Han Muye built up his Sword Qi bit by bit during the past 60 years working as a keeper in the pavilion.

Throughout the 60 years, a disciple came to seek a sword in the pavilion, and he received guidance from Han Muye.

The Sacred Maiden from the demonic clan attempted to steal a sword from the pavilion, but in the end, she left dejected and empty-handed.

A swordsman came to challenge Han Muye, and he left with a broken sword.

…

60 years later, the Celestial World invaded the mortal world.

The disciple had become an exceptional Sword Deity. He wielded his sword and protected a part of the world.

The Sacred Maiden had become the demonic clan leader. She sent a letter to the Swords Pavilion and led her clan to fight against the gods.

The swordsman had achieved enlightenment in his swordsmanship. His Sword Qi rifled up to the sky.

…

The gods from the Celestial World loomed over the sky above.

Han Muye slowly stood up. 100,000 swords followed him as he emerged from the pavilion. His Sword Qi could be sensed from 30,000 miles away, and his Sword Will pierced through the realms.

He declared, “Today, I, Han Muye, will traverse the sky. I want to see who among the gods dares to invade this mortal world.”

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”