I Quit Being a Noble and Became a Commoner - Chapter 54

Ever met someone who started cultivating from his mother’s womb?

A Professional Transmigrator meets a newbie Regressor.

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He lived an average, fulfilling life and died of old age. The next moment, he opened his eyes as the Princess of Asmaria.

While looking forward to his new life, he died again.

And so began his 151,897,914th life as Samur Eckart.

Samur is a Professional Transmigrator- or so he says so, as he gets transmigrated into a new world every time he dies.

However, each time, his memories return only moments before his death. If he successfully survives, he gets to live that life, if he dies, well, he just moves on to his next moment of death.

Once again on the verge of death as Samur, he’s saved at the last moment by a young boy.

Surprise, surprise, the young boy is a Regressor.

As a man of honour, Samur intends to repay his debt then leave because the world is too inconvenient to live in.

Well, that’s what he thought, at least, but the Regressor and his friends are kind of… weird, and he can’t seem to get away at all?

However, not everything is as it seems. Samur’s whims have made him the part of an eternal lie.

Shadows dance in glee as they concoct a requiem far grander than anyone can imagine, while the Lights tremble in delight as the apocalypse threatens the Universe.

The dies have been cast, the play has been written, the characters are on the stage, and the sacrifices have been made.

And so, it’s finally time to let this game begin.

He is the ruler of the mercenary realm, an overlord that gives headaches to the leaders of any country! For the sake of his friends, he’s willing to sacrifice himself; for the sake of his family, he does not hesitate to spill blood! He is a dragon, one that soars above even the highest of heavens. He’s a power that advances triumphantly through unstable situations, stirring up both the winds and the waters.

In the Jiuxiao Continent, martial arts is respected. The weak are like ants living in the ruins of dark alleys, while the strong are like dragons roaring and gathering at the top of the clouds. The laws of this place use blood as ink and bones as inkstones. A three-foot-long sword can split the sun and the moon, and a murderous thought can stir up a bloody wind. There was once a drunk madman who trampled eighteen royal cities to pieces. Wherever the sword pointed, thousands of miles of mountains and rivers were dyed red. There was also a saint who lowered his eyes to calm the nine thunder tribulations, and with a flick of his sleeves, a golden lotus suddenly appeared in the abyss.