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The mistake of magus world

REXAGON
Thousands of years ago, a cataclysmic explosion erupted from Earth's core, flooding the world with mana. This primal energy marks its chosen with the Weaver's brand. If it selects you, prove your worth in the Realm of Shattered Dreams—the fractured border between reality and the void. Noel hates this cursed magic world. It stole his family, turned his parents indifferent, branded him a failure, and crushed his dream of scholarly pursuit. Why unravel the universe's mysteries when everyone dismisses them as "mana"? They wield its power without questioning its origins. He craves a quiet life, free from glowing runes and blood rituals. But one storm-lashed night, the mark claws into his flesh, hurling him into the Realm of Shattered Dreams—a nightmare hellscape where buried fears congeal into twisted dream-spawns. These abominations hunt with insatiable malice, whispering his deepest shames. No spells. No mentors. No mercy. Just Noel, his wits, and the will to survive. He must scavenge shards of forgotten dreams, solve sanity-shattering riddles, and butcher horrors amid psychological terror and body horror—all while the mark devours his resolve. One misstep, and he becomes the monster. What to Expect: • Brutal litrpg survival with dream-forged progression. • Polished, complex power system with clear strength tiers. • Reluctant anti-hero forging power from despair. • High cosmology; slow-burn start. Strong female leads (and more than one). Will Noel shatter the realm... or himself?
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« MATURE CONTENT » His name is Raven Lustre. And the universe fucked him from day one. Imagine this: You get isekai'd to a fantasy world. Finally, right? Your moment. Dragon slayers, demon kings, the whole power fantasy package. Except when everyone else rolled Dragon, Archangel, Titan—bloodlines so pure they could split mountains on day one—you got Incubus. 60% purity. The discount bin special. Not the "seduce and conquer" kind you read about in those masterpiece web novels. The "your pheromones are weaker than cologne" kind. The "you can't charm anyone stronger than you" kind. Which in a world where everyone else is a walking apocalypse? Means you can't charm anyone who matters. So while Gareth—the muscle-brained Titan hero—was bench-pressing boulders, and Astasia—the Holy Archangel with a body that belonged in a cathedral and a face she hid behind a helmet—was literally glowing with divine power, Raven was in the back. The strategist. The brain. The guy they kept around because someone had to think. And they hated him for it. Astasia called him trash. Disgusting. Bastard. Freak. Every curse word a noblewoman could learn, she threw at him like stones. He thought she despised him. Thought she saw him as the weakest link dragging down the hero party. Turns out? 89% favorability. She was a fucking tsundere. And he never knew. Never saw it. Because he was too busy surviving, too busy stealing quick fucks with noblewomen in hallways just to recharge his trash-tier powers, too busy being treated like a prostitute with a brain instead of a hero. Then there was Nyra. The cat-woman. Gareth's slave. The one Raven fucked in secret because that idiot was too busy drawing pictures of Astasia like a lovesick puppy. 96% favorability. The one who actually loved him. The one he promised to free. And he failed. An Incubus got who died at Hand of Succubus during their first Session. The End.
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