MTL - My Youth Began With Him - Chapter 4692 Qin Huo Fan (31)

“You will hear many of his Death Eaters claiming that they are in his confidence, that they alone are close to him, even understand him. They are deluded. Lord Voldemort has never had a friend, nor do I believe that he has ever wanted one,” Dumbledore told Harry Potter with absolute certainty.But what if Voldemort did have a friend? Not just a friend but the friend? A millennia-old wizard, who learned the secret of Hogwarts from the great Four founders, and had his own goals to take over the world?To stop that ancient wizard, an ancient power is called upon . . . in the form of a girl. A Muggle-born at that.Christina Norton has powers beyond anyone's imagination but she is too caught up in the Chosen One Harry Potter's life and catastrophes. But as she starts to uncover the plans of Voldemort, she realizes someone else is working with him. Someone who wants her dead. Why? She doesn't know. She just knows she has to save her loved ones and Hogwarts from Malgino and for that she is ready to go to the end of the world.And fight whoever comes in her way.

This is a young man who traveled to the world of Azeroth.

For love and justice (don’t become a ghoul), fear of sacrifice (you can run the corpse to resurrect), in search of lost justice and humanity (temporary discipline), don’t stop.

Festival Exercises Retrieve the story of Festival Exercises.

- Description from Ptwxz

I’ve become a rogue lord in another world! This is the story of a game I was playing! The story of the protagonist, who has become a rogue lord who dies after two days, successfully uses the game’s history and system to escape his impending doom and become the strongest.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.