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... e one would expect from soil, but it didn't have the same sound absorption as concrete either.

When his vision cleared, he realized why that was.

Crystal. Mirror? Glass of some sort?

He stood on this odd ground, Priya on his back, looking at countless reflections of himself and the girl resting her chin on his shoulder.

Luckily, this wasn't a Tear that tried to separate them, so they were still together. But it wasn't very obvious which direction to go in either. ...

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High school student Misumi Makoto is called into a fantasy world by the god Tsukuyomi, in order to be a hero. However, the Goddess ruling the world isn’t as thrilled to have him there, and kicks him to the edge of the world. Tsukuyomi declares that Makoto is free to find his own way after Makoto is abandoned by the other Goddess.

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Crossing the Douluo Continent, or an auxiliary spirit master?

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Star Dou Great Forest…

“Golden Eagle, the white feathered peregrine falcon killed your wife, I’m here to help you get revenge, you fight, I’ll support you!”

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Su Xun stretched out his hands of friendship.

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My Skill Creation SystemChapter 131 Force Of Life
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At the tender age of five, I tragically lost my parents and suffered a life-altering injury.

Five years later, my stepmother evicted me from my home.

This misfortune, however, gave rise to a new beginning for me.

At age fifteen, I encountered a dramatic turn of events when I received two mysterious blessings.

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[You have received the Blessing of Sloth]

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[What skill would you like to create?]

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Now, I'm embarking on a quest to become the strongest in multiple worlds.

I must find the answers I seek, protect those I care about, and gain the strength to exact revenge on those who have wronged me.

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Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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