MTL - To Four Thousand Years Later - v4 Chapter 119 Altar dedicated to Hades

The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

……………………………………………………………

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Reborn as Red Army Misha!

- Description from novelbuddy

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.

“Why is this happening…?”

Mia Luna Tearmoon, Princess of the Tearmoon Empire, muttered to herself as she stood shackled on the execution platform.

The faces of the spectators surrounding her were, without exception, filled with indignation.

Before long, Mia was executed at the hands of the revolutionists, who were fed up with the heavy taxation.

But the next moment, she unexpectedly found herself lying on her bed.

It was eight years ago, when she was just a mere kid.

For a while, Mia even wondered if she was hallucinating. However, what appeared on her bedside table was a bloodstained diary that she had written herself.

That day, Mia’s screams could be heard echoing throughout the palace.

Mia was not a vicious person by nature. She was simply incapable of understanding the pain and hunger of others, and by the time she discovered it, it was already too late to do anything.

After she regressed back to her childhood, Mia struggled hard to trace back the events of the past with the help of her blood-stained diary and memories.

Was it to save the future of a declining empire?

Was it to save the soldiers who died in the civil war?

Was it to save the people from famine?

No, she had only one goal.

To avert her fate of facing the guillotine (execution)!