I Can Only Cultivate In A Game - Chapter 133: Registration Complete

In a world where everyone changes jobs, I actually awakened to a unique dual career.

And a life-defying career?

High-quality items to cherish? I synthesize directly.

Cherish high-quality skills? I synthesize directly.

Senior pet cherish? I continue to synthesize, wait, how did this beast girl become so big after synthesis?

Let’s start with the synthesis of three skeleton summoning books…

Synthesis – [Undead Army]

Three more dark staffs to synthesize…

Synthesis – [Death Scepter]

The game competition of billions of races in the universe, our solar system, can we earthlings stand on a broader stage!

…

- Description from novelbuddy

Bestselling author Elias Vayne has spent years writing stories to escape the horrors of his past. As a child, he was the sole survivor of a massacre that wiped out his entire orphanage. He doesn’t remember how he survived—only that when the slaughter ended, he was the only one left standing.His latest work, The Arcane Academy Chronicles, takes place in Veylin Academy, a prestigious school of magic and combat. But one night, after finishing the final chapter, Elias wakes up inside his own book—not as the hero, not as the villain, but as an extra. Worse, he’s been reborn as Kael, the very same orphan who survived a similar massacre in the story.But something is wrong. The academy isn’t as he wrote it. Characters are acting off-script, unknown forces are rewriting events, and the mystery surrounding Kael’s survival mirrors the one in Elias’s real life. The more he tries to regain control of the narrative, the more he realizes this world may not be his creation at all.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.

Of the ancient gods only one remained in the world. This god lived alone for thousands of years and no longer had any desires. Legend had it that during the great war between the worlds he used his powers to turn the tide managing to seal the cataclysmic rift bringing order back into the three realms. Time flew by and hundreds of years passed in the blink of an eye.