Abandoned Woman Busy Farming - Chapter 94 - 0 I Will Live Well

She remembers him because of the mole at the corner of his eyebrow;He remembers her simply because she is her.Every passing encounter becomes a story in the memory,And you are the ending of my story.

In a mind-blowing twist, I found myself reborn into a steampunk-themed JRPG made by a Japanese game company. To my shock, I was appointed as an executive of the villainous faction. However, the protagonist’s party was way too diligent.

Aliandra Amariel loved magic, dedicating her academic years to the study of runes and spells, pushing the boundaries of mana's infinite possibilities. Like most Fae, her destiny seemed clear until that fateful day of her Class Trial, when the Blind Lich unleashed an undead apocalypse on her home, the fabled underground city of Dal’mohra, and triggered The Breaking – a cataclysm that forever reshaped the world. Saved by her mother’s legendary time-stasis spell, Ali wakes thousands of years into a dark future. Everything she knew and loved is gone, buried under a mountain, transformed into a twisted dungeon by the malevolent will of the Lich. Now, Ali must confront her deepest fears, mastering the arts of battling monsters and braving a town riddled with corruption. As the Lich's grand design shadows her every move, she scrambles to forge new friendships and unearth ancient knowledge in her fight for survival. Why must she struggle? All she had ever wanted was to curl up in a comfy chair with a few thousand good books. But the immortal Lich is drawn to her unique magic, ever hungry for more power to fuel his cold-hearted ambitions. How will she survive the giant target painted on her back as her advancement slowly reveals the horrifying truth of the Class she chose to save herself? Will she falter, forced into the eternal servitude of undeath, or will she rise against all odds and cast him down, ridding the world of his evil?

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”