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... he outskirts of the village were made up of farm houses and fields growing crops, with a few Kalmoore guards patrolling about to keep the peace. Everything about the atmosphere screamed fantasy, from the clothing of the villagers to the construction of the buildings. Even the strange birds flying about looked unfamiliar to Winter.

“This building here is the Craftsman Guild Hall. Normally each profession has its own building, but in the small starting village of Orm, they’ve only got one ...

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Scorned by the world he was born in, Arthur had no other choice but to learn how to deal with it. Yet, just as his hard work and dedication were about to pay off, the hate towards his origins brought him to his death.

But that wasn't his fate. His future wasn't supposed to end with his head cracking against the edge of the stairs. His bloodline could not die as that would be against the wish of the universe itself.

Thrown to another world, he found himself in a situation where the skills and craft he honed would be no longer of use. His patience, his creativity, his logical thinking were no longer in demand in a world where strength reigned supreme.

Or was it?

My system is overpowered. I'm not shameless enough to deny it.

Scores of women and slaves all around? Those are the wishes of a naive kid, not mine.

Lower the price of those apples by a quarter and we will have a deal!

Dear, stop, I cannot hold any longer!

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The Empire's forces retreated in desperation—trampled by faceless horrors bringing darkness and death to these once beautiful lands.Only the most courageous stood in defiance, forming a last defence to buy the people time to flee—fighting until the final embers of hope burned out.A man stands with a silver sword, like a beacon of hope to those around him. He roared with all his might drawing his blade against the overwhelming enemy!“You face Lancelot, Sword of the Empire! ”These horrors tested the Lord's grit and loyalty in the final moments.“Should my blade break, I will use my body!”The knights had fallen, broken swords for their tombstones, and lords fled, betraying the Empire to survive.“If my body breaks, I'll use my Soul!”Lancelot, the sword of the Empire, fought alone.All hope seemed lost.“And if my Soul fails...”What could a single man and his army do?He fights against the dark tide, blade in hand, heart on sleeve.“I will sell myself to the devil for revenge!”But he was too weak, too fragile.The last Lord of humanity stood against the enemy.Lancelot was a master of the sword, a mortal, neither a God nor a Saint.Miracles were beyond his reach.Now only a broken man impaled on his own destroyed throne.His blade shattered—now, like rose petals, it was scattered across the charred ground.Lancelot's soul was fated for the abyss as the light faded from his eyes.His last ounce of resistance used staring at the man who betrayed the Empire.Now with only the desire to kill, crush and seek revenge smouldering inside him.Now unwilling to die and desperate to fight once again.He desired to fight for the people who supported him.Lancelot refused to surrender, to fall like this.As quietly in the abyss, a voice whispered to him.It tried to entice the Lord, ignite his desire to win and fight again.“If given a second chance, to relive your life with a different choice... Would you Accept?”Blood gathered in his throat, forcing him to reply in his mind.A frail and broken voice'There is no reason to ask, of course!'“No matter the cost?”'Even if I were to lose everything...''If my people can live on. I would sacrifice everything I have!'“You will no longer be the same, a monster, twisted and vicious.”“Will you still accept?”The Lord's heart ached, taking great pride in his humanity.To lose that caused his mind to falter.Finally, out of power, unable to speak or reply with a trembling arm.Lancelot reached out.Towards the raspy voice.Towards the abyss.Towards a new future.[So you would accept after all...]'I must accept.''I must stand tall.''I must not break.''Because...''I am the Lord of humanity![Nay, you are the king of demons]

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Is a flower demon with three hundred years of cultivation.

Shao Zi’s biggest wish is to beat up that egghead Scholar (shu sheng) that always comes to water plants at noon.

But when she got close and rubs her hands in preparation for action, she realizes that she’s clearly playing along to someone’s rhythm ah!

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