Dragon Poor - Chapter 292.

A cauldron, a secret forging method, and his blood created an ultimate weapon. The youngest Sword Crafting Master on Earth had been reborn from another world. With the Nine Yang Divine Furnace and a scroll of Divine Equipment, he was like a fish in water, standing at the pinnacle of the martial way. There were tens of thousands of clans, billions of cities, and countless experts. He was the master of ups and downs!

After crossing over into a world of magic, Dean Bruce was mistaken for a powerful sorcerer. Though he initially intended to sternly refuse the beautiful woman’s request to become her mentor, she offered him far too much to say no!Completely clueless about magic, Dean Bruce had no choice but to make up spells on the spot. However, when he saw the astonishing power unleashed by the beautiful woman after chanting his random incantations, he was stunned.The spells he had carelessly invented… could they really comprehend magic and even forbidden spells?As Dean Bruce ascended to the pinnacle of magical prowess and became the Archmage, he candidly answered a reporter's question during an interview with the Alliance: “ never understood magic. I just made up a few incantations, that's all.”People were in awe of him—this, they believed, was the true humility of a Grand Archmage!

In his past life, he climbed to the 69th floor, and reached the limit of his potential.

Now, reborn, he has returned to the past, when the almighty Tower first summoned him. He will work his way up again, step by careful step.

This time, he will climb to the top.

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You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.