MTL - After Crossing, I Marked the Empress - Chapter 173 dog head soldier

One morning, after being bound to the system, MC started his routine of always being captured/ attacked by the ML.

It doesn’t matter if he transmigrated into the ML’s little brother (TN: Here I think brother disciple) or master or opponent, but in the end he is still forcibly taken by the ML.

After transmigrating to many worlds:

MC: Come out system!!! The heck?! Why do these MLs not love their female goddesses, but insist on doing it with me! Aaaaahh!!!

System: …. __(:3」∠)_ Don’t ask me, I also don’t know.

- Description from Novelupdates

After someone took my life away from me, I felt something or someone pulling my entire being together with my memories away from me and placing them into somewhere where it was cold and hollow. And when I thought that my life came back to me...

I realized that my new life as one of the dead had already begun...

"Who am I?"

Which path will this soul choose? A path of Perseverance or a path of Ruination?

* * * *
P.S: This is my first novel that I write so there is bound to be mistakes...so go easy on me xD

Gawain is dead and was transmigrated, but there was a slight problem during the process.
After floating for more than a hundred thousand years on a different continent, he felt that he might need a body to become a complete transmigrator, but he did not expect that…

- Description from Novelupdates

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

- Description from novelupdates