Reincarnated into a Game As the Hero's Friend - Chapter 205.3

The Great Norther Wall. The Dragon Knights. The Lords of the Winter Mountains. The Descendants of the Primordial Dragon. These are the various titles of the Grand Ducal Clan Ragnar, which boasted a rich, thousand year history. Theo Ragnar resolved himself to aiming for the throne of that very same clan. ‘These cursed chains weren’t something I could slip out of. They were meant to be broken with strength.’

With one touch of the stone, Tyron receives his Class and his life changes forever.In an instant his bright and promising future as the scion of two powerful Slayers is torn apart and he must make a decision.Will he allow his Class to be purged from his soul, or will he cling to it, abandon all that he knows, and rise to power?

A poor orphan, who lost both parents, stumbles upon a mysterious space and embarks on the path of cultivating immortality. From then on, he cultivates spiritual herbs, refines immortal pills, opens a shop, practices military formations, and establishes an immortal kingdom…This story is about cultivating immortality and farming, with a focus on ordinary people, not horses.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.