Absolute Choice - Chapter 12

“It’s finally here,” said the man with the sword in an echoing whisper.

“The Tower of Choice, the last 100 floors!” the band of five exclaimed in unison.

Angelica came down from the altar with a dull look, seemingly annoying.

Then we looked around.

“I tell you once again, but you’ve had a lot of trouble in the meantime. I couldn’t have climbed to the 100th floor alone without you.”

Thud!

One by one, they fall to the floor.

Angelica’s dagger pierced my neck, and I felt a darkening in front of my eyes with a tumultuous rage. My awareness faded, from my senses, from everything else. After that, everything was eroded by profound darkness.

The world is under invasion by creatures from another world. Martial arts became the most important skill in this world, and all cultivators strived to improve their skills.

Chen Yiming transmigrated to this world with a special ability – the Martial Arts Talent System. The system allowed him to use Skill Points to enhance his talents infinitely.

What if he was born with a physique that was not suitable for cultivating martial arts? He could slowly train in the mountains while waiting for his Skill Points to accumulate. When they reached a certain amount, he could use them to enhance his talent and automatically acquire the physique needed for cultivation.

What if he did not have the complete volume of the martial arts technique he practiced? It wasn’t a problem. With sufficient enhancement to his talents using Skill Points, he could automatically deduce the missing parts in the book.

With the Martial Arts Talent System, he could defeat everyone who got in his way. He could easily climb the ranks in the martial arts world – becoming the top disciple, the top cultivator, then the grandmaster.

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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