Combat Maid Harem - Chapter 911: Reviving A Leaf

I’m not a gamer. In fact, I barely touched games—never had the time or interest.I’m a 23-year-old college dropout, part-time construction worker, and full-time avoider of adult responsibilities.That is, until my little sister nagged me into trying a romance simulation game called Echoes of the Crimson Throne.I played it. Liked it more than I expected. I even completed it.And the next thing I knew… I woke up inside the game.Not as the hero.Not even as a love interest.I was now the personal attendant of Alice Draken—the villainess, the Prince’s fiancée, and the iron-fisted Ruler of the North.A woman whose downfall was guaranteed... unless I do something about it.

Buried alive. Forgotten by the world. Cursed to refine death itself.Rin Xie clawed his way out of his own grave with nothing but broken nails, shattered bones, and a core pulsing with rot. In a world where the heavens punish the wicked with celestial fire, where death cultivators are hunted like beasts, Rin awakens with a forbidden path—one that feeds on pain, suffering, and the ashes of the dead.He cannot heal. He cannot forget. But every wound, every betrayal, every death he witnesses becomes fuel for his ascension.Under a crimson eclipse, he walks through battlefields where spirits still scream. In deserts of bone, he consumes lotus flowers blooming from despair. He learns techniques the heavens sealed away in fear—Soul Wither Pulse, Requiem Bloom, Grief Reclamation.But the deeper he dives into death, the less human he becomes.He no longer cries for the fallen.He no longer prays for peace.He begins to wonder—what kind of death should he become?In a world where power devours morality, Rin Xie will either become the end of all things...Or something worse.

This is a cliché story about two young people saving the world.

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”