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Sea Of Thieves Treasure Chests

Ashes Of Deep Sea

Duncan Abnomar was transmigrated to a magical world. Most of the lands of the world had sunken, and the surviving humans could only live on islands. Due to an unknown reason, the world was also contaminated and strange phenomena and things would randomly appear. Humans had developed steam gear technology, and the islands were connected through boats. They survived by studying strange phenomena that happened all around the world. However, as the captain of a scary-looking ghost ship, Duncan was facing a huge challenge. "How the heck do I steer this ship?" Highly recommended by experienced editor: MC is transmigrated to a world mostly covered in water and far from civilization. He becomes the captain of the ghost ship, the 'Homeloss'. He steers through the fog and adventures through the broken world and the unknown deep sea. As he discovers the ruins of abandoned civilization, he would also stumble into the war between the strange phenomena and the devil gods. The story takes place in a combination of ocean and Chutly mythology world, a new and interesting background. It’s an attractive story to read due to the author’s sense of humor and mastery over the ambiance of the story. --------------- Another-style introduction: "On that day, a thick fog engulfed everything. On that day, he became the captain of a ghost ship. On that day, he crossed the dense fog and faced a completely overturned and shattered world – the former order was completely gone, and peculiar phenomena dominated the endless seas beyond civilized society. The island city-states and the fleets challenging the sea have become the only lights of civilization left, while the shadows of old days still lurk in the deep sea, waiting to devour this dying world again. But for the new captain, there's only one pressing question – Does anyone know how to sail this damn ship?!"
Yuan Tong · 756.9K Views

Heaven Defying Treasure

In a world of cultivation, where a single palm strike could topple mountains and a sword’s slash could cleave the seas, strength dictated everything. The heavens favored the mighty, while the weak were trampled beneath their feet. Ye Xian awakened to a new life, his soul inexplicably fused with the memories of a man who had perished a thousand years ago—Adler, a warrior who had endured unfathomable betrayal, agony, and loss. Visions of a cruel past flooded his mind: comrades turning against him, the brutal murder of a beloved woman, and the despair of being left for dead. Though the memories were not his own, the pain felt real. The rage, the sorrow, the thirst for vengeance—they burned within him, threatening to consume his very being. Yet within his grasp, he held a heaven-defying treasure—a relic of unfathomable power, capable of overturning fate itself. It pulsed with ancient energy, whispering secrets of untold strength. This was no mere inheritance; it was the key to rewriting destiny. Ye Xian clenched his fists, his breath trembling. He would not be another name lost to time. Yea, he would rise. Armed with his newfound power, he would ascend above all, surpassing geniuses and shattering the very limits of the world. Wisdom, power, sheer determination—he would seize whatever he desired. As he walked the treacherous road of cultivation, he would grow stronger, unravel the mysteries of his past, and confront the enemies lurking in both memory and reality. In this brutal world, where power dictated destiny, one question remained: Would he ascend as a sovereign, carving his name into history with the corpses of his enemies? Or would he fade into oblivion, forgotten and powerless? ______________________________ The image does not belong to me; I simply found it on an online platform.
TheNmbrSeven · 12.5K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 706.3K Views
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