A Necromancer Who Just Wants to Plant Trees - Chapter 1083: The Emerald Scythe and the Starry Sky Cabin

There was a mysterious old man who approached the failed swordsman with the “100 million years button”. A magic button which can achieve the same effect as training for 100 million years if you push it.

The failed swordsman who pushed the button had his doubts, but immediately felt tremendous power rising in his body. So he pushed the button many times.

However it was a cursed button. The moment it was pushed, he was confined to the 100 million years prison of time. The first 100 years were devoted solely to training. After 1000 years he had forgotten why he swung his sword. He stopped thinking completely after 10,000 years had passed. After 100 million years he became crippled and finally managed to return to the real world. At the same time losing all his memories from the past 100 million years, the only thing that remained were his sword techniques. “I can become stronger just by pressing the button!” or so he thought and pushed the button many times after that. Foolishly trapping himself in that 100 million years of hell each time.

As he continued this loop, he began to think “If I destroy this world, will I get out of here?” A few billion years later, he finally escaped from the loop.

This is the story of a failed swordsman trying to make a name for himself in the world.

Video game streamer Jing Yu, momentarily misstepped, and found himself in a strange professional gaming team.

Solo laner: Even if I have my eyes closed, asleep, dreaming, I can still kill you all!

Mid laner: Retreat? Not going to happen. Even if I only have one drop of blood left, I’m going to kill you all!

Marksman: Attack range advantage? I like to battle close-range! If you aren’t a coward then don’t run, let me kill you all!

Support: Support? As if! Wait until I switch to an AD build, then I’m going to kill you all!

Jing Yu: ……

Jing Yu: All of you, retreat! I’ll be the one to kill them!

- Description from Novelupdates

She, the prime minister’s daughter, was timid and cowardly. Because her engagement fell through, and her reputation was ruined, she was pressured to spill her own blood in the palace hall! Once again opening her eyes, the cowardice had vanished, replaced by coldness, causing others to be intimidated at first glance. Yet no one realized, she was not her.

A replica of Marquis Kieran Vale, the son of the Marchioness of Vale, who she deemed a failure. That was all she was. No, she was now referred to as “he.” At least until she met Claude Del Ihar.